


Redemption of the Bully

by Tepantar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Beads, Bondage, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Caning, Dom Harry Potter, Dom bathes sub, Dom/sub, Draco Malfoy in Denial, English is NOT the author’s first language, Figging, Ginny Weasley Bashing, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Oral Sex, Paddling, Public Punishment, Public Scene, Public Sex, Rimming, Spanking, Sub Draco Malfoy, Tags to be added as Chapter goes, Top Harry Potter, Watched Masturbation, Whipping, ears and tail, mention of past child abuse, mild dirty talk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:20:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 98,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27508987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tepantar/pseuds/Tepantar
Summary: Draco hired a dom to punish him for being a bully to Harry Potter back in Hogwarts. He required said dom to wear the glamour of Potter. Said dom, of course, did not.WARNING: English is NOT my first language, and I’m terrible at spelling and grammar. Please be tolerate. And maybe teach me? (/ω＼)
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 723
Kudos: 1170





	1. Negotiation

This can’t be a good idea.

On the way Draco walked from the dark ally he apparated to and the back door of ‘Fantasy’, this was his only thought. The walk, unfortunately, was too short for him to change his mind. He took one last deep breathe in the cool air of November London, and tapped his wand on the seemingly solid wall in front of him.

The wall pulled to both sides elegantly like the curtain of an opera, revealing a spiral of staircase leading downward.

Draco walked down the stairs, and found himself just above a room that is weirdly familiar. It was a giant circular room, with its walls made of rough stones that were draped with red tapestry rimmed with golden tassels, a chandelier hanged low from the ceiling, giving out a light that was both warm and erotic. Directly across from where he stood was a burning fireplace, two long black leather sofa and a few smaller ones were placed on a thick red carpet that covered most of the floor orderly.

The room briefly reminded him of his old Slytherin common room. After all, it is a dungeon. Of a different sort though. A Slytherin common room with Griffindor colored decor, he relised, and pushed the idea aside. Red, black and golden had always been favoured by people with special interests. And since most wizards of the UK did go to Hogwarts, it really isn’t so surprising that the owner of this dungeon would design its common area with some reference to a Hogwarts common room. But it was making this seem more and more like a bad idea.

On the floor where he stands were evenly spaced doors, each leading to different rooms warded with top-level silencing and security charms, no doubt. He took the letter from his pocket to check one more time just for sure, and yes, room No.6 was booked for him.

It wasn’t difficult to find the right room as the doors all had a gigantic number with relievo of rose thorns and snake molded of gold on them, as he approached, the snake raised its head and asked: ‘Passsssword——”

‘Jobberknoll.’ he said quietly.

The door slowly opened, and he was able to see the man standing inside. His heart couldn’t help but skip a beat when he took in the appearance of the man.

It was a full grown man, his frame taller and more filled with muscle than he remembered him to be, showed off elegantly by the cream-colored shirt and matching light grey suit pants and waist coat, yet dangerously seductive, as he wore no tie or cuff links, and let his collar loose and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his collar bone and the lines of his strong arms were shown, and looked tantalisingly casual; his features more well-defined and somehow handsome in an unassuming way, black hair still untamable, but messy in a different way as if he just got out of bed after splendid sex rather than got up late for class; his expression was light and at ease, in stark contrast to the fact that they are in a dungeon for pain, and making him look even more cute, a bit bookish dorky also, due to those way out of style round-framed glasses.

And he looked up, his eyes clear and bright and so green that emeralds from the queen’s jewelleries would be ashamed. Just seeing those eyes did terrible things to him.

Ohhh isn’t this a bad idea.

‘Mr. Malfoy.’ the man said with a dominating tone that snapped Draco out of the easy-going image and his brief trance, and as if he knew what was on Draco’s mind, he explained, ‘You requested your Dom in the appearance of Harry Potter, to best serve our clients’ fantasies, we always wear our glamour from the beginning. Although it is unclear what your request of the age or other specifics are of me, so I took the liberty to use the glamour of Mr. Potter’s current age and the attire of my own selection. Will this suffice for today’s purpose of negotiation, or would you like me to adjust?’

‘It will suffice.’ Draco found himself saying.

The man nodded, and looked back down on the parchment that was in his hands. After a few seconds, as Draco still didn’t move, he looked back up and suggested calmly: ‘You may come in.’

Draco felt embarrassed by his own stiffness and silently took just one step forward. The door immediately closed right behind him with a dull thud, he couldn’t help but jumped a little at the sound, and instinctly looked back at it. When he looked back at the man, he saw him smiled as if he was humoured but without a thread of warmth in his eyes: ‘You may have a seat if you like.’

It was then Draco finally realised that he wasn’t in a room of torture, but more like a office, with a large carved wooden table and chair placed in front of a bookshelf, across from a set of sofas and coffee table. The man was half-sitting on the table with his long lean legs folded at his sock-clad ankle, gesturing towards the sofa that is directly across from him with a long roll of parchment that Draco recognised as submitted by himself a few days ago: ‘This may take a while, as I see there are some blanks left on your contract, in addition to the confirmation we usually have to make.’

Draco hesitated for just a brief second and took the seat as he was told, the man directed his wand and a cup of hot tea floated to Draco, and Draco took a sip. So the man began: ‘Mr. Malfoy. You stated in the contract that you decided to use our service to punish yourself for… past bullying?’

The warmth of the tea made Draco felt more like himself instantly: ‘Didn’t go to Hogwarts I take it?’

The man looked up at him at his come back: ‘Well, I in fact did go to Hogwarts, and your... “exchange” with Mr. Potter was rather public and frequent. So, just to be perfectly clear, you would like me to punish you for your past bullying to Mr. Potter as Mr. Potter?’

‘Has the punishment already begun?’ Draco raised an eyebrow, ‘Because it sounds to me that you are just stating the established fact again and again.’

‘Well, I need to be perfectly sure.’ the man smiled a little wickedly, then looked down on the parchment, ‘I see here that you didn’t give a safe word, was it because you are new to the dom/sub ritual and don’t have one, or…’

‘I don’t want a safe word.’ confidence left Draco again and he lowered his head a little, looking down into his tea, his long pale fingers traced the warm rim of the cup, ‘I will take any punishment you deem necessary.’

‘Unfortunately, that is not how this works.’ the man said, his looks a bit stern, ‘You will need to pick a safe word before we start.’

Draco bit down on his lip. This really is a bad idea. But when he found out about this dungeon, he just couldn’t resist. _We make the best cocktail of pain, humiliation, and pleasure. Send us your deepest fantasy, and we will deliver._ The invitation sent to him as a letter with the toys he bought so brazenly stated. _Anything with Anyone, no judgement and bound by unbreakable vow to stay secret forever._ His family did fell a little after the war, but he had worked their way back to a respectable position by throwing gold at both charities and politicians, and that in return, earned him even more money and guilt. Seeing Potter’s name in the top five pointed glamour list was the last straw. And he just… couldn’t resist.

He looked up into those green eyes and asked abruptly: ‘What is your real name?’

‘Excuse me?’ the man seemed surprised at his question.

‘What is your real name,’ he repeated, ‘I believe your real name will help me break the fantasy, thus suitable to be my safe word.’

‘Ah,’ the man tilted his head, his fringe shifted a little, making his lightning scar visible: ‘…James.’ he said, ‘The name is James.’

Draco nodded absentmindedly.

‘Alright,’ the man said, ‘Moving on. Says here that you would like to reenact what happened and be punished for it. Normally, ‘Fantasy’ do offer age-altering potions to make the experience authentic. But as you were a minor when you commited the bullying acts, it would be against the protocol of the club to exercise corporal punishment on a minor. So, the de-aging potion would only go as far back as you were seventeen years old, when you came of your legal age. The same goes for me, too. So when you request a scene, you could only request for age above seventeen for both of us. Clear?’

‘What if I want to be punished as a, say, eleven years old?’ Draco asked.

‘Trust me,’ the man said flatly, ‘I can make you feel like one without the potion. Now, is that clear?’

Draco couldn’t help but shudder as the man’s word sent fear and excitement down his spine, he clenched his teeth and nodded again. This time, the man said: ‘I don’t like repeating myself, and would appreciate you responding to my questions with clear answers, as a show of respect. And I would like you to refer me as “sir” when you are in this club and not in a scene. Let’s try this again. Was I clear about the age limitation?’

Right. The man is a dom. And Draco answered: ‘Yes.’ the man waited, and Draco reluctantly continued, ‘…sir.’

‘Well I’m sure I will help you get better at this.’ the man smiled and said with a glint in his eyes.

He then continued to confirm a few details Draco had provided on the parchment, established their routine that Draco would let the man see a selected memory of his by a adapted version of Legilimens, and they would reenact or just skip to the punishment the man decided upon. Finally, the man was satisfied with the information he got, and touched his wand to the parchment to sign the contract. Draco silently did the same when the man held the parchment out to him. The parchment then shot out a bright golden light that resembled chains and enwound the parchment, when the light disappeared, a crimson seal appeared on the parchment symbolising the deal was made.

For a brief moment, Draco felt like he just made a deal with the devil.

‘So,’ the man said slowly, his face cool as stone, ‘Would you like to start the sessions today, or would you like to make an appointment for next time?’

Draco breathed out as even as he could: ‘Today, sir.’

‘Perfect.’ the man smiled just a little, yet the smile did not reach his eyes as they were cold as ice. He raised his wand and the bookshelf turned to reveal a chamber, surprisingly large with almost everything inside, just a glance, and Draco knew there were a few things he don’t even recognise.

Draco felt himself froze for a moment, the man just looked at him with a hint of cold smile in his eyes: ‘Do you have a specific memory in mind, or would you just like to be punished for being a bully in general as a start?’

Frankly Draco just didn’t think he would be able to deal with the man invading his brain right now, so he forced out a word: ‘Latter.’

‘Then I would like you to strip before you enter the room.’ the man said casually, pointing to a low cabinet with a wand case on it by the entrance, ‘And do remember to refer me as sir. You will earn extra punishment for disrespecting me.’

‘Sorry.’ Draco murmured, and when the man gave him a pointed look, he immediately added, ‘Sir.’

‘That would be your last warning, given only because today is your first day, and you are outside the playroom.’ the man said, again leaned on the table, folding his arms, and Draco could feel him looking intensely at him from right behind him, ‘Also, when I give you an order, I expect you to follow immediately. Any delay would also result in extra punishment.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Draco said, putting his wand in the case first, ‘Sorry, sir.’

The man with his childhood rival’s face was watching him strip, and that naturally makes each moment long and a torture. But he was wearing too much and clothes too fine to strip fast. He untied his tie, took off his dark grey robe, and went on to unbutton his waist coat and shirt, and paused.

Sometimes he felt like his life is just running around in circles, because he always come back to the same thing —— the mark on his forearm. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remove it. He hadn’t shown it to anyone after his trial, and let the first time be showing it to a stranger wearing Harry Potter’s glamour is just too much. He probably stopped for a moment too long, and the man spoke: ‘You will not need your sense of shame, or you will regret it when it slows you from following my orders.’

‘Oh fuck it.’ Blood rushed to his face, showing only a shade of light pink. He looked back at the man angrily, ‘Why don’t you do it yourself. I’m sure there is a spell for that.’

For a brief second, the expression on the man’s face changed. It wasn’t that composed face of a dom anymore, Draco couldn’t tell what all the mixed emotions were, but there was anger for sure. He immediately knew he must have stepped out of line.

‘Disobedient, I see.’ the man quickly collected his emotions and said calmly, ‘there is indeed a spell for that, but I will not use it. You will receive 20 more for the disrespectful way you spoke, and you have my count to three to finish your order, or there will be another 20 added.’

Draco fought to keep down the urge to rebel. He doesn’t think very highly of himself when it comes to endure pain. So he put some effort into trying to strip as fast as he can as the man started to count, but soon he knew it was a lost battle.

‘That’s 20 more.’ the man said.

When he finally striped bare, the man gestured the chamber with his wand: ‘After you, Mr. Malfoy.’

Draco hesitated a moment before heading in, facing the man’s questioning look, he said: ‘Not… Mr. Malfoy. Just… Malfoy. He always called me that.’

‘Malfoy, then.’ the man easily complied, ‘And I will be Mr. Harry Potter for you once you cross the threshold.’

Draco walked in.


	2. Vindictive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco getting caned and spanked OTK style, and he also had his first orgasm with the man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m aware that this Chapter took me a while. I’m not a fast writer or a regular poster. Love you if you still follows!

Almost as soon as he walked in, he felt the man’s hand in his hair, warm and firm, it made him shudder, but before he could enjoy it, the hand pulled just enough to be slightly painful and dragged him across the room. The man casually kept his hand at waist height, as if he were carrying a book, Draco had to bend down to ease the pain, didn’t even see where he was going, and was thrown to bend over a table by the wall. 

The table had cushioning charms installed just enough to protect him from getting any real injuries but still quite painful as he clashed into the surface and the side. He looked back at the man irritated: ‘What the hell — ’

‘So you didn’t knock me into the walls then, did you?’ the man said coldly, and Draco immediately trembled a little as if cold under his stern looks, all resistance left him when he heard Potter’s words. Potter waved his wand and a rough cleaning spell scoured over him, leather shackles from the ground came up and locked around his ankles, another set of handcuffs from the wall held his hands behind his back, holding him firmly in place. 

It was a horribly compromising position, as his arse is now up in the air facing Potter, and his cock visibily dangling between his legs. The shackles prevented him from closing his legs, and even though he was in a rather relaxed stance, any wrong move will expose his virgin hole for Potter to see. It was also quite a sight, as the position brings out his long beautiful legs, and made his arse seem perfectly round and plump. 

Still Draco couldn’t bring himself to submit, even though he knew he is here to punish himself, and was determined to take his punishment. He struggled against the restraints, but just the next second, he panicked as he saw Potter taking down a cane from the wall. 

‘No… no,’ he stuttered, ‘not the cane.’ 

He did state in the contract that he was afraid of canes. 

‘And I was able to chose the way you bullied me?’ Potter asked. 

Draco fought to hold his tremble in while Potter tested the cane, making those terrible air-breaking sounds. 

He was so terrified that he didn’t see the first strike coming, it landed right in the middle of his arse, and tears welled up in his eyes just the first strike. It was painful, but he could tell Potter was holding back. He knew a grown man with that kind of muscle would be capable of doing much more damage. Draco couldn’t see, but only a light but clear line of pink appeared on his alabaster skin. Suddenly, he wasn’t so afraid. But is was still painful, he could feel his blood rush into the wound, his skin swelling up just a little, stretching to be slightly painful. Such swelling in the eyes of the man almost resembled the blooming of cherry blossoms, and their bright green darkened a shade where Draco couldn’t see. 

Before the pain fully subsided, came the next strike, moving upwards. And then the next. Pain rained down on him, and he couldn’t help but groaned and tried to avoid it. 

Potter briefly stopped, only to walk to his side and firmly place his hand on Draco’s lower back to pin him on the table, and asked teasingly: ‘Whining already, Malfoy?’

‘Oh fuck you.’ He replied almost instinctively, and regretted immediately, swallowing the last syllable, as Potter dragged the cane warningly across the pink welts on his arse. 

‘It seems you can take more.’ Potter chuckled deeply, ‘It’s quite a sight actually, seeing you cry and squirm under the cane at my mercy, your pretty little arse whipped pink. But I sincerely hope this cane can teach you a lesson about your behaviour — I do not appreciate you talking back, and do mind your language.’ 

Draco felt rebellious at Potter’s words for just a moment, before the cane came down harder than before right over his sit spot and shattered his resistance. He jumped and his hands reached for his arse instinctively, he couldn’t actually reach because of the handcuffs, but Potter brought the cane down on his hands lightly, just enough to prickle and startle Draco into clenching his hands, and warned coldly: ‘If this were your attitude of atonement, you can just get up and leave.’ 

Draco lowered his head at Potter’s chastise. Maybe it was because the man was a good dom, he played that grudge-holding role surprisingly convincing, and he reprimanded Draco right on the spot. Draco felt so ashamed of himself as he tried to escape what he deserve again like the irresponsible child he was, and forced himself to apologise: ‘I’m sorry, sir. I… I will not do that again.’ 

‘I do not accept any attempt at blocking my punishments, or any unauthorised touching where you were punished. Whenever that happens in my playroom, either your counting will start from the beginning, or you will be taught the lesson otherwise that will drill into you blocking your punishments and touching yourself is not a good idea.’ Potter said, bringing the cane down on his sit spot again, and Draco’s knees buckled a little. It didn’t matter, as the table was rather high, giving his legs very little room to bend. 

‘Y…yes, sir.’ Draco remembered to reply. 

Despite being stern, Potter was definitely in control of himself, as the cane struck in perfect parallel, with almost exactly the same force and interval. He was definitely a sophisticated dom. Draco was trembling at the pain, but he knew he was still given mercy. 

Potter stopped when there was no space on his arse to land more strikes without overlapping, by then he was a sobbing mess, unable to support himself on his legs. In those green eyes, his arse was a delicious pink, just shy of red, as Draco was subconsciously tensing and relaxing, even swaying a little, it seemed like sweet seduction. As composed as the man were, his suit pants were getting tight, and when he reached to feel Draco’s arse cheeks, it weren’t all for examining the extent of the damage. 

‘You are quite delicate,’ He just said. Considering the force he wielded the cane, Draco’s arse is quite easy to color and swell. He wasn’t done with the cane yet, but if he were to carry out his original plan, he would be too cruel to his own liking. He never liked it bloody. 

Draco was too fixated on the pain that he didn’t notice what Potter was doing, flinched when Potter’s relatively cool fingers touched his burning arse. The hand left for a brief moment, and when it came back, it was coated in cold oily substance. ‘It’s just some potion that would make sure the cane wouldn’t break your skin.’ He explained. 

Trembling hard, Draco felt Potter applying the potion onto his arse, whimpering as Potter’s hand revived a little pain while rubbing lightly in soothing circles. He felt himself getting hard at the gentleness and slight pain, and because of his position, there was no way Potter couldn’t see that. Tears of humiliation and pain spilled over, even though he was being stroked rather than struck. 

‘What did you learn?’ After the potion was absorbed and his arse felt warm again, Potter’s hand left him, Draco turned back a little, seeing that Potter had picked up the cane again. 

Draco bit down on his bottom lip, his pride again stopped him from submitting. But he knew what was about to come, and so did Potter. Potter raised the cane, and struck. 

He was only able to endure a couple of strikes before he was crying out in pain, and the pleading and begging came just behind: ‘Ahh! I was — wrong, sir, I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again! I promise! Please, stop… Oh, sir…’ 

He was afraid that Potter would humiliate him again by saying something like ‘Begging already, Malfoy?’, but instead, the caning stopped, Potter’s warm hand combed through his hair and cupped his right cheek, brushing away a few tears. The hand was gentle and comforting, as if complimenting him for saying the apology. He couldn’t help but leaned into the touch. 

‘Good.’ Potter said, but his tone was still harsh, even a little sarcastic, as he wasn’t convinced of his own words, but was satisfied with the progress, ‘I’m glad you learned your lesson.’ 

Then, he said: ‘Now the punishment can begin.’

Draco couldn’t help but broke out a sob. He was trembling so hard that what he said couldn’t be coherent: ‘N… nono, please, I… I can’t…… Please, s-sir.’

‘You do have your safe word.’ Potter said quietly. 

No. Draco remembered. No, not safe word. He did something terribly wrong, and he deserve the punishment. He shouldn’t just coward out the way he always did with almost everything in his life. He need to take his punishment. 

He took a deep breathe, letting out the air shakily, and said: ‘No. Please — I would take my punishment, sir.’ 

Potter stopped for a second, as if surprised, and stroked his cheek lightly, this time even more comforting and complimenting. Potter then vanished his restraints and went to adjust his posture, making him stand on his forefoot, raising his arse even higher in the air. His arse hurt just by stretching, but he complied. He knew that this position would not only drown him in the shame of Potter seeing his arsehole, but also have all his muscles tense, and hurt a lot more when the cane lands. 

‘Then you will receive ten more strikes, I will strike harder than before, you can cry and move all you want after each strike, take as long as you need, but I want you back in position when you are ready.’

Draco was trembling, in strain and in fear, but also different from the fear he used to feel before… 

The first strike landed. 

He couldn’t help but collapsed onto the table, the pain was so much that he couldn’t even make a sound, but a strangled breath, he barely remembered he shouldn’t touch his arse and dug his fingers into the side of the table instead. 

For a while, he couldn’t find the courage to go back to the position Potter required. And Potter didn’t rush him, just looked at him calmly with those green eyes, watching him, judging him, as if he were evaluating whether Draco was worth the time and effort he would be devoting to punish and educate him. Draco somehow knew he brought this punishment on himself when he mouthed back and tried to block the strikes, because Potter was testing him, testing whether he was sincerely sorry for what he did and was willing to atone. Now that there were no restraints, he could just say the safe word and walk away, or he could curl up and hide under the table and never come out. 

But he knew what he had to do. What he want to do. Even if no one other than himself would know he made such effort. Even if that effort couldn’t change the past, and seemed trivial to what he did. 

Shaking hard, he moved, trying to get to the position as best as he can, and as soon as he settled, the next strike landed. 

Again and again. 

Each time he resumed the position, the cane would come down immediately. Soon he was shaking and crying, unable to stop, terrified of resuming the position, but he forced himself to do just that. 

Each time Draco cried and tried to curl up, each time he was sure he wouldn’t be able to resume the position, and each time, Potter let him have as long as he needed. And each time, he went back to the position. 

Bright red stripes stood out in contrast to his pale skin tone and the pink shade of his arse, swelling up to the point of painful stretch, threatening to break. But the sight was again incredibly beautiful, as he was so terrified and determined at the same time. Cowardly brave. And that made the man’s cool green eyes warm just a little. 

On the eighth strike, Potter stroked his back lightly, as if comforting and complimenting him again, and that somehow gave him the courage to continue. 

And finally, ‘One more.’ Potter said, his hand in Draco’s hair again, still warm, this time gentle, and Draco couldn’t help but shuddered. 

And the last strike landed. 

He almost kneeled down if he weren’t holding on to the table so hard, so many tears he cried that he felt himself on the verge of dehydrating. 

His arse is now burning, he could feel the ten harder strikes welt higher and burning even more painfully than the rest. 

‘You did well.’ Potter said briefly. 

Draco then felt the strong arm of Potter catching him by his waist, carefully letting him go so he could ease into a kneeling position on the ground without hurting his arse unnecessarily more. 

He looked up to see Potter pulling over a chair to sit in front of him, silently handing him a conjored cup of water, refilling the cup when Draco finished it with a rapid version of his noble manner. 

After Draco had enough, Potter vanished the cup and said: ‘About the 40 I added… ’

Draco must have given him a frightened look as Potter couldn’t help but smiled a little before he continued: ‘It is also my rule that all added punishment would not be canceled or postponed to a next appointment. But I had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to take too much, so I didn’t specify how you should take your punishment. I have decided that I will punish you by my hand.’ 

Draco relieved a little, but he knew taking 40 even delivered by hand won’t be easy on his battered arse. But he learned his lesson: ‘Yes, sir.’ 

But then Potter patted his lap: ‘Come on.’

Aaaaand he hesitated. 

His painful arse is urging him to comply, but kneeling on the ground, looking up at the annoyingly attractive face of his childhood rival, he just couldn’t bring himself to get on his lap to be spanked like a little boy. It’s not that he’s trying to escape his punishment, it’s just that if Potter wanted to put him over his lap and spank him, he’ll have to force him, there’s just no way he will ever do that willingly. 

Potter wasn’t surprised by his hesitation, if anything, he seemed to enjoy Draco’s moment of torment, those green eyes vibrant, glinting with lights of pleasure — the man truly is a sadist. But Draco knew as well as Potter, that he is in a vulnerable position. The punishments were already close to his limits, he couldn’t afford to disobey or delay. In fact, Draco’s sure the only reason Potter hadn’t rushed him was because he was enjoying Draco kneeling on the ground, debating internally whether he should climb on his lap too much. 

‘Or do you prefer the cane?’ Potter tilted his head, apparently enjoyed enough, ‘I was looking forward to have you crying and begging over my lap but… my mercy is limited, Malfoy.’ 

The expression on his face would have provoked Draco back in the day, but as always, when Potter made his blood boil with anger and irritation, there was always something else. He hoped that as he was kneeling with his hands supporting himself in front of him, Potter wouldn’t notice his cock twitching at his words. 

But no such luck, somehow Potter knew he was hoping to conceal himself, he narrowed his eyes, and stepped lightly on Draco’s hands: ‘You act like you are a member of nobility, looking down at everyone, but you never had any manners. We will have to work on that later. But for today, I will just tell you, when you kneel, hands behind your back and hold your elbows, straight up your body and stick out your chest. Never try to conceal yourself in front of me, and I will always know whenever you try to pull something. Now get on my lap before I count to three, or it is cane for you.’

Draco slowly did what he was told, biting hard on his lip and his face burning hotter than his arse, he was too distracted to say anything. Somehow, Potter let it slide. 

He was afraid of the upcoming punishment, shaking a little as the position put quite some strain on his limbs, trying to even his breathing. When Potter’s hand landed, it wasn’t a slap, but a gentle touch, the pads of his fingers dragging over Draco’s reddened skin carefully. Draco realised he was inspecting the ten harsher wounds, making sure Draco could take his punishment. 

But that just prolonged the torment. The touch was so light that it tickles, and that again went to Draco’s cock, which is now almost fully hard against Potter’s strong thigh. There’s just no way Potter wouldn’t feel it. Draco couldn’t help but shifted, that apparently pleased Potter somehow, when he looked back at Draco, he was smiling a little, his earlier strictness gone: ‘Eager are we?’ 

Just get on with it for fuck’s sake! Draco shouted internally, but kept his mouth shut, settling with giving Potter a irritated look. 

The man was amused, as it seemed that no matter how hard Draco was punished, and how sincere he was when he apologised, that unyielding attitude always return the second the punishments were over. That was actually something he enjoys — a rebellious sub. Always more fun than the meek obedient ones or the eager-to-please ones. He always enjoyed the process of educating and wrestling the rebellious smart ones. Sometimes he would let a few small mistakes slide, knowing that they would spiral into bigger mistakes that he could have more fun with. 

‘Again, I don’t appreciate that attitude of yours.’ Potter said, his hand stroking Draco’s arse, ‘You can kick and cry all you want, but keep your hands on the floor. Do remember my rule of no blocking.’ 

Then he slapped where he was stroking. 

It wasn’t a hard slap, but firm, and extremely painful, as Draco’s arse is already thoroughly caned that not much force was needed to cause great pain. He couldn’t help but jumped, cried out and kicked up his legs. 

Then came the next slap. And the next. Potter alternated between the two cheeks, making sure every part of his arse was evenly covered. The pain was just so much that he forgot about the rule and reached behind.

Potter caught his wrists immediately, before he could even reach over his waist, and as the spanking stopped, he suddenly realised his mistake. 

‘No, I’m sorry sir — Please don’t.’ He begged, tears filled to the brim of his sliver eyes. 

What he did not know was that it was the begging that became his undone. Seeing his beautiful sliver eyes red at the rim, glistening with tears, thin rosy lips abused by his teeth and trembling, spilling words of begging, it stimulated the monster in the man. The monster was imperious to bring him over the edge, to see him break. 

‘I already gave you a warning you don’t even deserve, Malfoy. Now you shall take your punishment — the number of your punishment is no longer 40, I’ll stop when I see fit.’ Potter said cruelly, eyes shining a cold green, ‘Oh we are going to have so much fun.’ 

Draco was terrified, he even tried to fight, Potter couldn’t be that much stronger than him, but he was much more tactical, soon Draco had both of his arms twisted behind his back, held there easily by Potter’s left hand, both of his legs kept loosely under Potter’s right leg, and his arse raised high on the left. 

Potter started the spanking again, the same firm and steady slaps, Draco was indeed able to writhe and kick all he want, but soon he realised he was being taunted, as no matter how hard he struggled, the slaps always landed at Potter’s intended spot with the same force. There was no escaping the punishment. 

‘Oww… I’m sorry, sir, please… owww… it hurts too much! Please… stop… I’m so sorry… I will never do it again. Please…’ He cried and he begged, he felt sincerely sorry for what he did, and said so many times. 

Somewhere along the line, he realised he was being punished like a little kid, and he was acting just like that, writhing and crying and begging over Potter’s lap, only to have his arse spanked red. He knew he brought this on himself again, when he questioned the man and he assured him he would make him feel like a eleven-year-old. The man was nothing if not vindictive. Every wrong word, every wrong move, would come back to bite him in the arse, literally. 

And he just got the hardest erection of his life, precisely because he was spanked like a little boy. 

Not sure at which slap, his cock rubbed on the pressed material of Potter’s suit pants the wrong way, and that sent sparks right up his spine. He couldn’t help but shifted his weight, unconsciously rutting on Potter’s thigh with each smack. Both the pain of the spanking and the friction of the suit pants made him feel dizzy, and his chase after the pleasure was getting more and more obvious. 

Potter immediately caught on to it, while he didn’t say anything, he let go of Draco’s hands, sure that Draco wouldn’t escape, using the free hand to stroke, squeeze and part the hot flesh, spanking the more tender and untouched spots of Draco’s groin. 

Draco completely forgot the shame of Potter’s hand ghosting, brushing and stroking around his arsehole, and the few slaps he got there had a different sting, having him moaning and whimpering. He rutted into Potter’s thigh almost frantically, all sense of self and morality thrown out of some window, he just needed a little more —

Potter slapped his arse particularly hard, and he was coming, just by rubbing off on Potter’s thigh, and making a terrible mess there. 

He heard Potter let out a light laughter. 

‘I believe that’s the end of this session.’


	3. Caring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftercare and discussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me a while to finish this chapter. Hope it’s still enjoyable :)
> 
> Thanks my dear @lovesanimals for proofreading for me. Any other mistakes is because I feel better about the chapter with the mistakes.

Draco was gently let down to kneel on the ground again, and he was trembling.

At first the man thought it was because of the fierce orgasm that ripped through Draco, but he soon realised that was not the case. Draco was biting down hard on his lips, tears streaming down his cheeks.

‘I… I’m so sorry.’ Draco began, and the man knew he wasn’t just talking about bullying or blocking.

‘This is supposed to be punishment, and I…’ Draco was shaking. He clung onto the man’s knees as if it were his lifeline.

Again it was a delicious sight to the man, seeing the forever self-righteous blonde at his weakest, so fragile to the point of near breaking. There was the beauty he tried to pull together, and the beauty that threatened to break through, as if he were a glass bottle full of pearlescent starry liquid on the verge of shattering into a hundred shinny pieces.

Draco didn’t notice the tempted darkness in the man’s eyes. He was too focused on the guilt that was about to swallow him whole, shaking as he felt chilled to the bones. To him, this was supposed to be punishment. When he hired the dom, it wasn’t to satisfy any sexual needs or actualise any sexual fantasies. It was for the sole purpose of punishment, with the hand of a professional. He did this to relieve some of his guilt, and that’s already despicable. And now this.

Realisation appeared in the man’s eyes. He then arched a brow, emerald eyes looking only at Draco and asked curiously: ‘What makes you think that wasn’t punishment? I for one, would find cuming by humping my victim of bullying while being spanked like a little boy quite humiliating.’

Draco was stunned. He tried to say something, but he had no good answer to the question. Not if he didn’t want to reveal too much.

Also, something of the man’s words or expression turned him on immediately, right after he felt he was chilled to the bones. For all the years at Hogwarts, that face of Potter’s mostly alternated between irritation and detest when he was looking at Draco, sometimes resignation, or even bored. But never intrigued, never had he been able to get Potter’s full attention, no matter how far he pushed him.

Right now, the way the man was looking at Draco while designing a scene to play Draco, the expression he let on purposefully to both terrify and excite Draco, was not something Draco ever thought he would see on Potter. Yet it fitted him so well, to the point that he forgot the man he’s looking at was not Potter, even though he was smirking in a way Potter never did. He wondered how the man was able to play such a role so well, so naturally, without trying to play the role. But then, he charged a fortune, the highest of all ‘Potters’.

Draco avoided the man’s clear green eyes and noticed the impressive bulge between the man’s legs. He couldn’t help but blushed a little, asking: ‘Do you need…?’

‘Ah.’ The man said, ‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘But…’ Draco reached for it without thinking.

‘It’s not your concern.’ The man caught his wrist, fingers a bit tighter than necessary, his eyes cold again. Draco flinched, and the man’s expression turned a little wicked, ‘A Dom is nothing if not in control, that doesn’t just mean I would have perfect control over you, but myself too. I don’t believe today is the right time to introduce this into our game. Besides, you don’t deserve it yet. I doubt that you know how to please me, and I’ll teach you that lesson when I see fit.’

What the man said burned Draco with want and shame. Indeed Draco was made to swallow his pride for quite a number of times in his life, but it always takes a lot of effort or grave threat to break him. Never would he thought a few simple words from the man would make him almost desperate to prove his worth, to want to kneel before him and beg him to let Draco take his length into his mouth, or please the man anyway possible —— to deserve the attention and reward.

His cock twitched so soon after the intense orgasm he just had.

‘Can you get up?’ The man asked, and Draco tried and failed. His legs were still weak after holding the difficult position and his orgasm. Without another word, the man picked him up bridal style, and walked back to the office room.

Draco couldn’t help but feel hot in the man’s arms —— the man was strong to the exact point of sexy, and he leaned his forehead on the man’s shoulder, trying not to fantasise about the man picking him up and fucking him while he walks, how it may feel different after he was spanked, and that he didn’t yet deserve to be fucked by the man. The warmth radiated through the man’s clothes after the ‘exercise’ they had was not helping.

The man laid Draco down on the couch on his stomach, sat down by Draco’s thigh and summoned a engraved and charmed wooden box full of aftercare stuff, took out two soft blankets to cover Draco’s upper body and legs, baring only his arse.

Draco’s arse was completely battered, now bright red that glowed, with ten clear crimson colored stripes evenly spaced. The man used a much milder version of cleaning spell on him, so mild that it didn’t hurt his tender arse, before placing a hand on his back, stroking long and light: ‘Now let’s make you feel better, okay?’

Draco nodded, the tension between his shoulders he wasn’t aware was there eased a little. Something in the man’s voice though, made him feel like the man wasn’t particularly keen to take such care of him. Rather, he did it because this was his responsibility, the right thing to do. And that though Draco himself wouldn’t consider his behaviour today good, the man had at least rated him adequate. This was again something he earned from the man. Even there wasn’t much emotion devoted to the action, he still felt better of himself.

Nevertheless, the man proceeded with incredible patience and gentleness. He took out a jar of white salve and applied it to Draco’s abused flesh as careful as possible. Draco buried himself in the warmth of the blanket, trembling and whimpering a little whenever the man massaged with some strength so the welts and bruises would heal faster.

‘Would you be able to answer a few questions for me?’ The man said, his hands now stroking light and unnecessary circles on Draco’s arse, cupping his arsecheeks in both hands in a very distracting way, ‘It always helps to talk about the scene so improvements can be made.’

Frankly, Draco didn’t want to talk about anything in relation to his decision to be punished at all, but he also didn’t want to say no. The man wasn’t surprised at his passiveness at all, just added: ‘Tell me to stop when you feel uncomfortable, okay?’

Draco nodded this time.

‘Why are you so afraid of the cane?’ The man asked quietly, ‘You didn’t list it as a hard limit, nor did you use your safe word, so I carried on. You even seemed relaxed after I actually used it on you. Your reactions were… you were expecting a lot worse than I delivered. It’s unusual for someone who’s… first time users often think it hurts too much already.’

It’s rather weird seeing such a confident man having difficulties in choosing words since it’s clear that he already thought about the question for a while, but Draco couldn’t register that. He just went stiff while debating internally whether he should tell the man the truth.

Draco Malfoy was a man of many secrets, as a Malfoy should be. He wasn’t particularly interested or good at it when his father lectured him that a Malfoy should never let people see behind their masks. But he changed his mind after everything happened, and perfected that skill over the years. Now he’s quite sure no one was sure of anything about him, even something as trivial as whether he liked treacle tart. Today was probably the first time in many years that he lowered his guard and let out some of his true feelings. Partly because the man was really good at what he does, and there’s that face.

What the man asked was something he never told anyone ever before. But Merlin, that face. There’s just no way he could lie to that face. Maybe he will regret about this later, even the man wouldn’t be able to tell anyone due to the unbreakable vow, but today he wanted the man to have his answer.

‘Father used to use it on me. Whenever I failed to achieve his standards of a Malfoy heir —— which is all the time —— that’s what I’d get.’ He said calmly, trying to seem less affected than he actually was.

The hand abruptly stopped.

Draco looked back at the man, his eyes were a cold hard green, as if frozen in ice. Yet his voice was the softest Draco had ever heard of the voice of Potter: ‘Your father hit you. With cane.’

Assertive sentence. Then question: ‘Since when?’

Draco hesitated for a second, then the man had his fingers in his platinum hair. For a brief second Draco wondered when the man applied a cleaning charm to his hands, as the fingers in his hair was warm and clean, but the thought was quickly discarded as the conversation they were having was too intense, and the combing motion of the man’s hand too enjoyable: ‘It’s alright if you don’t want to answer.’

It was that gentleness that had Draco talking: ‘Since I was ten. The proper education of a Malfoy heir starts at the age of ten, about all kinds of social manners, and of course magical courses. Everything we learned in Hogwarts, I learned a year before.’

The man laughed a little, his hands moving back down, pushed the blankets aside, and used a different potion that resembles essential oil and heats after massaging to relieve the soreness of Draco’s back and legs, taking extra time with Draco’s mile-long alabaster legs, especially the inner thighs: ‘That’s why your grade always came up second? That’s almost cheating.’

‘Yeah.’ Draco flinched a little, ‘Father thought so too. Since I already learned everything beforehand, there’s no reason I couldn’t best everyone else. I get ten strikes for every subject I didn’t come up top in. Which I guess is a great part why I hated Granger so much and jumped at the first chance to make her life worse.’

The smile on the man’s face evaporated, replaced by heated anger. But he quickly schooled his expression, simply said calmly: ‘That is not the act of someone who deserve the title of father.’

Despite his love and respect for his father, Draco couldn’t be so blind to say Lucius Malfoy did a spectacular job at parenting. He spoiled Draco, gave him everything Galleons can buy, but also terrorised Draco. Somehow Draco couldn’t blame him, because Lucius Malfoy was once the Malfoy heir just like he was, and someone else broke him, drilled family honour and bloodism into him —— as did the Malfoy before him, and the Malfoy before him. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint where the Malfoy family went wrong, but what Lucius Malfoy did to Draco was what he believed to be the best for Draco, and at some point it became Draco’s own responsibility to find out and walk on the right path of his life.

Draco also noticed something else: ‘How did you know I always came up second? Did we know each other?’

The man wrapped Draco up in the blanket and let Draco lay over his laps, comforting Draco by stroking his hair and back as if Draco were a cat: ‘I did go to Hogwarts. And I’m about your age. It wasn’t so hard to know something like that about the Slytherin Prince.’

The way he said ‘Slytherin Prince’ was weirdly sarcastic, it sounded more like ‘Slytherin Bully in need of a good spanking’. It had Draco’s face burning. But he suspected it was the man’s diversion technique, and still managed to ask: ‘Did we know each other? Did I… were you bullied by me?’

He had very few friends while in Hogwarts. Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson were his Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, Crab and Goyle were family friends and quite frankly imbeciles who wouldn’t be able to survive by themselves so he took them under his wings… and that’s about it. Everyone else were subjected to his bullying or at least his brattish temper in general.

The man actually paused at his question, and said: ‘I think it’s safe to say we were different kinds of people. You didn’t know the first thing about me. Rest assured I was much stronger for the little this and that you pulled to break.’

So an actual victim of his.

Draco wanted to say something, but he wasn’t prepared to have this conversation with his victim, and he couldn’t think of any right word to say except from he’s sorry. He panicked a little.

The man just shushed him: ‘Shh… it’s okay, you don’t need to say anything right now. If there’s anything I would like to hear from you, I would get it out of you myself.’

And the man was nothing if not a man of his words. So Draco relaxed himself in the man’s touch.

‘So, was your father’s past punishment what drove you to me?’ The man asked, his long fingers playing with Draco’s hair, Draco suspected the man liked his hair a little bit too much, but the touch was too soothing for him to care. ‘That what’s punished is forgiven?’

‘I… I guess I wasn’t exactly thinking when I booked the appointment.’ Draco kept his eyes looking forward, ‘Maybe… this is what I’m sure I was afraid of and would take no liking in… thus a suitable punishment. I feel less guilty after I’m punished, yes. But I’m afraid what I did to him wasn’t something I can ever put behind me. I kind of… just want to escape from my guilt for a while, even if it would be worse when it comes back. But I’m not so sure about this anymore. I wanted… pure pain and punishment, something I would fear so much that I wouldn’t dare… I shouldn’t be… enjoying this.’

Again he was overwhelmed by shame, and buried himself in his arms.

The man was quiet for a moment, then he said: ‘It seems I made a questionable decision rushing into today’s scene. The conversation we are having now, perhaps more, should have happened before I brought the cane down on you, as you might be lacking the ability to properly safe word. Well, it is the responsibility of the Dom to take care of his sub. What you described is not healthy by a long shot, and not something I would do for all the Galleons in the world. How about you let me worry about it? You come here to relieve your guilt, and leave the rest to me.’

The suggestion of giving up control, to have someone else guide him to fight the hopeless fight he had been fighting for years, to take care of him and make him feel better was too delicious and too close for Draco to decline. Even though his guilt kept gnawing him in the background that this wasn’t something he deserve.

He nodded, and the man patted his head.

‘Good.’ The man said.

Tiredness washed over him as the praise loosened the last tension he was holding, Draco struggled to keep his eyes open, and asked: ‘Is there a time limit…?’

‘No.’ the man said, smiling a little, ‘As long as you need.’

And Draco fell asleep.


	4. Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little walk down the memory lane and the revenge of the memory ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still transition Chapter.  
> Thank lovesanimal again for proofreading. Real patient with me and made me realise I’ve been spelling gryffindor wrong for the past chapters.  
> (ノД`)

By the time Draco woke up, he was sleeping on the bed the man transfigured from the couch, and the man was reading on the nearby couch, with a cup of coffee held under stasis charm for Draco.

Draco pretended to be asleep just long enough for him to plan in his head the fastest way out —— and that whether he should get dressed facing the man or with his back turned to the man. It wouldn’t be decent either way, but it’s choosing between showing the man his half hard cock or his reddened arse. 

The man, on the other hand, enjoyed Draco’s poor attempt at pretending as he was obviously awake as he had a fierce blush of embarrassment on those pale cheeks. His green eyes watched Draco getting dressed as if a wolf sizing up his pray, enjoying the view of Draco’s deliciously red arse. 

Draco apologised for the extra trouble, turned down the coffee and made for the exit. The man just nodded, let him go after directing a glass jar of salve to stop Draco abruptly in front of the door and a ‘It had been a pleasure, Mr. Malfoy. You did well.’ 

Draco was torn between embarrassed to the point of irritation and happy to the point of floating. 

You did well. 

That single sentence had Draco going for a week. When his guilt came back to claw and gnaw at him, he heard that sentence. The prove that he started something. 

As his guilt came back, Draco was rather reluctant to use the salve, as he wanted the punishment to last. The jar even came with printed specific instructions that included a strict punishment clause. Apparently, his dom also wouldn’t tolerate any indication of him not taking care of himself. But at the time, he didn’t care. To avoid unnecessary psychological burden, he didn’t even read the punishment clause. 

The man did a great job at the aftercare, as it only took a week for his arse to fully heal. By that time, Draco found himself missing the man intensely. He would have gone sooner, but that would be giving the man clear evidence that he disobeyed the man. He already knew that’s going to cost him. 

He sent an owl to the man, booked an appointment, and went digging in his closet. 

He had his old school uniform buried in there somewhere. 

It probably won’t fit anymore, as he had also grown some since Hogwarts. Not as much as Potter, judging by the few times pictures of him attending charity parties splashed over the various front pages. 

Draco’s train of thought went offtrack a little at that. 

When the war first ended, everyone was curious what their hero and star would do next. Even as a social outcast at the time, Draco heard Potter got invitations from almost every Quidditch team, and exceptive admission to the Auror division. All the fame, fortune, and power of the wizarding world laid at his feet, yet Potter did none of that. 

He disappeared from the face of the earth. No one, not even Weasley and Granger knew where he went. At least that’s what Lovegood says in The Quibbler. But Draco suspected Granger must have figured out by now. That woman couldn’t bear not knowing anything. According to Lovegood, except from the few political events that Potter cares about, such as fundraising party for war orphans or memorial for the War of Hogwarts, only his close friends get to see him on their birthdays, and of course there’s Weasley and Granger’s wedding day this year, at which he made a handsome best man and all the papers went crazy for a month. That’s probably where the glamour of the man came from. 

A truly noble, and determined man. No fame, fortune or power could waver his heart, not even a little. Sometimes when Draco remembered his slander behind Potter’s back and vile words said right to Potter’s face, he wondered how he could be so blind. How he wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. 

Draco shoved a box aside a bit harder than he intended. 

He finally found that damn uniform. 

——

When Draco got to ‘Fantasy’ this time, it appears to be meeting time or something. He found a bunch of ‘Potters’ sitting in the lounge, talking and even laughing a little. 

For whatever reason, he spotted his ‘Potter’ immediately. 

The man was sitting in the corner, wearing a simple grey shirt, smiling halfheartedly at something one of the other ‘Potters’ just said. There was something about the man that made him stand out in a group of handsome man that looked exactly like him. Not glaringly, no. More of a… true diamond among zircon kind of way. One wouldn’t be able to tell the difference if they don’t know what to look for, or didn’t look close enough. 

As if felt his gaze, the man looked up, interrupting Draco’s thought and Draco instinctively took a step back so no one from the lounge could see him. But it’s already close to the time of his appointment, the man cast a quick Tempus and excused himself. 

He came in the door right after Draco managed to take a seat at the couch and pretended he had been here for a while. The man smiled a little and apologised: ‘Sorry. Today is exceptionally busy for the club —— we are holding a “Potter’s night”. They were debating whether we should have a display of an orgy of a few Potters, and whether the customers could join if they pay enough.’ 

Even the man grimaced a little. 

That… explains all the ‘Potters’. 

Draco pulled his perfect fake smile and teased: ‘So you are telling me, if I pay enough, I could have all the Potters?’ 

The man’s eyes darkened, but smiled: Theoretically, yes. However, I would only suggest that if you were able to handle me. And frankly, I doubt your ability.’ 

Such assertiveness on a man is as good as any aphrodisiac to Draco. He looked away, but the man had caught on to it. 

‘So,’ the man took a step back to sit at the corner of the table, his groin right at Draco’s eye level, ‘what memory do you have in your head today?’ 

Draco took a deep breath. 

The spell was an adapted version of Legilimens. Instead of forcing his way into Draco’s memory, the man would be allowed into Draco’s mind, but could only see what Draco had to offer. 

Normally, Draco wouldn’t let anyone near his thoughts. But he was probably the best at Occulmency among living wizards. The man wouldn’t be able to see what he didn’t want the man to see even with the real Legilimency Charm. 

However, when he felt the man’s presence in his mind, he was a little surprised. He knew that more or less, Legilimency could be an indicator of the strength of the wizard, sometimes even the character. One could tell if they were good at Occulmency. He remembered Voldemort forcing his way into his mind, the cold and damp presence there, like slimy mud and moss that never saw the light of day. The man however, despite being a dom, was a rather warm and pleasant presence, reminded him of Christmas morning, lying half awake under the warm cover, knowing there’s presents waiting for him, without opening his eyes, he could feel frost blossoms over the window glass, and the mountains and pines covered in deep snow silent and sagacious. 

The presence was cautious, Draco wasn’t able to tell exactly how strong a wizard the man was, it could mean the man was either exceptionally good at Legilimency, or even more powerful than Voldemort. Probably the former, as he most likely does this very often with the other customers. Or maybe Draco was too distracted by the fact they’re going to play again. 

Focus. He thought to himself, took out the memory he boxed in for the man, and opened it as if it were a present, played it as an immersive film. 

It was from first year, when he took the memory ball from Longbottom. 

The man would be able to feel his frustration and humiliation from the day Potter turned him down, to feel his need to revenge, to have those green eyes focused and only focused on him. To him then, Longbottom was the perfect target. He was the weak, the stupid, the unlucky, the vulnerable. The one that had no value and could bring no profit. He couldn’t defend himself, and no consequence could come from hurting him.

He himself also felt the stab of hurt and guilt again when Potter stood up for Longbottom. It was his education that there’s only predator and pray, and predators form their alliance by praying together. But he felt admiration when Potter stood up for the nearly worthless Longbottom, and was willing to take the risk of flying when it’s the first time he ever touched a broom, when he had just witnessed Longbottom’s epic failure. 

It was then he knew, Potter was different. But it wasn’t something he was willing to acknowledge, and was in denial for many years after. 

The man would be able to know it all. 

When he cut off the man’s access, the man was silent, then he tilted his head a little, his tone teasing: ‘I guess you lifted a rock there only to drop it on your own foot. I remember Slytherin lost the Quidditch match to Gryffindor that year. And Longbottom became friends with them, leading to the five points added in the end. If you hadn’t done that, Slytherin probably would be able to keep the House Cup that year.’ 

‘Right.’ Draco’s tone was definitely acerbic, ‘Father made the same connection. With that and Granger, I didn’t sit well for the whole break. To be fair, Dumbledore would have given the House Cup to Gryffindor anyway. He would add ten thousand points to Longbottom for all he cares. Any other comment to rub it in?’ 

‘He was a good headmaster.’ The man said. 

‘He was a great headmaster.’ Draco said, his dug his finger nails into his palm, and tried to push other thoughts away, ‘He had something much more important and horribly dark planned for Potter, so he had to honeytrap Potter into leading his young, inexperienced and vulnerable little friends to fight darkness far bigger than them, to fight the most dangerous dark wizard since his damned ex-boyfriend. A fucking House Cup was nothing compared to everything else and the bigger picture. But that doesn’t change the fact that he stole the House Cup from us that year. So, a horrible headmaster too. Screwed up my trust in fair game completely. And I hated him for it for a whole year.’ 

The man was thoughtful, but laughed at Draco’s last sentence, at some secret Draco didn’t know, in a cat stole a fish kind of way: ‘That… that actually made a lot of sense.’ 

‘Good.’ Draco said, folding his arms. 

The man was definitely amused, but pointed his wand at the floor right outside the playroom. 

‘Strip and kneel.’ He said. 

Draco was in a bad mood, he refused to do as he was told. He felt the unjust crushing his chest. 

‘And you.’ He said, ‘I was not a likable child, I knew that. But you, you stood up for everybody but me. You didn’t say a damn word when Weasel laughed at my name.’ 

‘Don’t call him that.’ The man’s tone severe. 

‘HE started it!’ Draco shouted. 

The man narrowed his eyes: ‘What did I say about disobedience Malfoy?’

Extra punishment. Even more if he didn’t follow the man’s orders quick. It didn’t seem like a good idea to start his second punishment with the extra punishment that had him crying and begging last time. 

But he felt hurt and didn’t want to move. 

And he was afraid. He knew he was just postponing the inevitable and making it worse for himself, but the worse his punishment gets, the more he refused to face it: ‘This is not fair.’ 

His voice was quivering a little, and he hated that tears are welling up in his eyes and tried to blink them away. 

‘Malfoy.’ The man said, ‘Look at me.’ 

Draco refused to do so. His senses had come back to him by now. He knew what he did to Longbottom was not right. And he knew Weasley was an honourable man despite the fact he had quite a few shortcomings. He did a bad thing calling him the weasel. Something a bully would do. Something he had sworn to himself that he would never do again. He couldn’t look up at the man, couldn’t handle Potter’s anger or disappointment right now. It would be too much for him. He kind of wish the man would just push him down and, he didn’t know, scold him, and whip him bloody or something. 

‘Malfoy. —— Draco. Look at me.’ The man said softly, ‘I’m not angry.’ 

‘Good for you.’ Draco pursed his thin lips to a tight line at the use of his first name, stubbornly ignored the tingling feeling it brought to him and retorted. But he couldn’t help but looked up and found the man’s eyes mild as spring lake under the sun. Suddenly, he couldn’t look away. 

‘I’m not angry.’ The man repeated calmly, ‘But I suggest you drop that attitude and start doing what I said. If you make me say that again, you’ll regret it.’ 

Vague threats were always the scarier ones, especially as the man had established he was not a man to mess with very quickly in their first scene. 

Draco was tense with fear and rebellion, he didn’t want to move, but the man nudged him with a little smile: ‘Come on, come over.’ 

So he stood up abruptly and stumped his way there, ripped off his clothes angrily and knelt on the ground.

The man was biting back a laugh, only let on a warm smile, reached for Draco’s hair and ruffled it. Draco was even more angry at this point: grabbing his hair or combing through his hair with fingers was one thing, ruffling them and making a mess was another. He valued his hair. However, the way he looked up angrily at the man only reminded the man of an arrogant and spoiled cat, and was also quite pretty as he was naked, kneeling, with tears in his eyes and a fierce blush on his cheeks. He looked… lively. Contrary to the lifeless fake perfect he tried to pull or the pale solitary that leaks through the mask. 

The man leaned down, this time more intimate and spoiling, stroking Draco’s hair and cheeks: ‘Good boy.’

At that, Draco’s anger evaporated. But he decided to pretend he was still angry and hated the pet name. 

The man however, didn’t rush to start their scene, but asked Draco: ‘Is there something you would like to tell me?’

Draco looked up at the man, confused. 

The man explained goodheartedly: ‘We are currently outside the playroom. If there’s anything you would like to confess, I would consider reducing your punishment.’ 

‘No sir,’ Draco bit out, ‘I would if there were any.’ 

The man studied his face carefully and laughed a little: ‘I see you really picked the right memory. How ironic —— Accio Memory ball.’ 

The man raised his hand without looking and caught the ball with ease, then he gestured Draco to stretch out his left hand, and placed the ball in Draco’s palm. 

The bloody ball turned red.


	5. Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two in Hogwarts uniform. Interesting toy. Hoist to the ceiling. Broom. Something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to lovesanimal.

Ten minutes past since Draco had gotten that damned memory ball in his hands and he still couldn’t figure out what he forgot.

It wasn’t for lack of trying.

Right now, Draco was wearing his newly tailored school uniform, kneeling on a L-shaped platform, supporting himself with his knees and elbows. Potter had specifically demanded him to hold the memory ball in both hands and look at it. Which was a shame because Potter pulled off that Gryffindor uniform so well. They didn’t use any de-aging potion today, as Draco felt it would bring back too many old memories. But seeing a twenty-seven-year-old Potter dressed in Gryffindor uniform didn’t make it better. And it’s not just all the right muscles and what he packs. Back in Hogwarts, Potter was seldom carefree. Understandable, anyone leading a group of minors, each with their own quirk, fighting lunatics and twisted politicians and opportunists would be. Plus, he had Draco at almost every corner of the castle giving him hard times with creativity. The paper crane for example, had a nice touch of romanticism in it. Now it seemed that Potter was no longer the young leader of a wolf gang on the rise, but a matured lone wolf, with a good grip on himself and the world. The uniform just made that contrast starker. He looked… casual but invincible. Not much could hurt the man he became anymore. It was enticing to see such a man do just about anything. If he didn’t demand Draco not to look, Draco wasn’t sure he could look away.

Draco’s uniform on the other hand, was probably showing him in a different contrast. The robe was pushed up and the trousers were dropped to pool around his knees, and this was somehow more embarrassing than completely naked. He already received a spanking delivered by hand on his bare arse for his disobedience earlier, not enough to be painful, just tingling, and hot. Potter stopped when his arse showed the perfect lovely pink.

Not one day in Hogwarts did the young Malfoy not groom himself to perfection, never a hair out of place, never a wrinkle on his robe. But right now, he was as disgraceful as can be in that uniform. And he had indeed grown some since Hogwarts, still slim, but plimmed at just the right place, arse and thighs just the way the man liked them, soft and bubbly, long and lean, probably still a regular flyer as per the vaguely visible muscle lines. Somehow, as he forbore his shame and embarrassment to be held down and hold the humiliating position as he was told, the man felt as if he was shoving the Malfoy right now into the Malfoy he was and pulling him down from the altar for him to squeeze and screw however he likes.

Now isn’t that exhilarating.

Draco on the other hand, was struggling to concentrate on what he forgot. Potter hadn’t been making it easy for him. He took down Draco’s trousers gracefully, then pulled down Draco’s underwear in an excruciatingly slow speed probably to humiliate him, but it also made him aroused. The spanking was of course as humiliating and arousing as it can be. Draco could hardly keep his eyes on the memory ball let alone concentrate on what he forgot. He really needed to think, or…

Unfortunately, distraction appears to be the point.

Potter seductively roamed his hands over Draco’s arse, stroking the pretty pink shade he just painted there, grabbed them in his hands and kneaded and squeezed playfully. Draco was now fully hard, drowning in the man’s attention and caress.

He had managed to go over everything that happened in the office room in his head, just couldn’t figure out what he forgot.

‘Any luck remembering?’ Potter touched the inside of Draco’s left knee with the finger tip of his right index finger, drawing a line up his inner thigh, making Draco tremble slightly. Somewhere along the line, his fingers were slicked with lube, and he leaned down so Draco could feel his warm breath on the shell of his ears, ‘No? Then I’m going to punish your pretty little hole.’

Potter’s finger ghosted over his hole, and Draco shivered, involuntarily tensed when he felt Potter’s cleaning spell tickled his hole, catching Potter’s finger a little.

Potter chuckled, his fingertip tapped at the tip of Draco’s cock, just to show Draco he knew Draco’s leaking precum already, and Draco felt his cheeks burning hot.

‘I would think you are deliberately trying to be punished if that ball isn’t red.’ Potter said, his breath brushing over the back of Draco’s neck. Tickled, Draco turned to escape, looking back to Potter’s direction. But he only got to see Potter’s red and yellow Gryffindor tie dangling before Potter’s other hand grabbed his jaw. Draco felt Potter’s hand on his cock pull away, then a sharp slap landed on his arse.

‘What did I say Malfoy?’ Potter chastised over his moaning.

‘To keep my eyes on the memory ball, sir.’ Draco whimpered a little, ‘I’m sorry sir.’

But Potter was not angry. Draco could feel that. If anything, he was glad Draco was so attracted to him in the uniform. But he wasn’t going to let it slide: ‘Now I have to punish you.’

He said, the tip of his finger stroking Draco’s hole, pulling at the pucker, tempting Draco only to pull away and slap him three times on each arse cheeks in rapid succession, forcing another moan out of Draco. But then he was gentle again, gently parting the arse cheeks he just slapped on, teasing Draco’s hole again, breaking through the rim and let Draco squeeze him out a few times. Draco’s ears burned and Potter forced his finger all the way in this time, feeling Draco’s hole clench around his fingers tight.

Despite his effort to hold the sound in, Draco moaned, loud. Even louder when Potter curled his finger.

‘So tight.’ Potter teased, ‘Been a while, huh?’

Draco bit his lips. Sure, he had fooled around with a few women and men before. But he never had anal sex. It just never got that far. He heard about it, of course, just never had anything up there. It’s not like the contract asked about that, and he felt it would be petty to bring it up himself. Right now however, he didn’t want Potter to stop.

‘I guess I better prepare you for what’s coming then.’ Potter stroked his back a few times, held him down under his other hand, stretching and fucking Draco with that finger.

Draco almost went crazy at that, moaning loud, gripping the memory ball till his fingertips went white, blinking back tears to look at it. He wanted to bite his lips, but as soon as his moaning was muffled, Potter slapped his arse, hard: ‘Malfoy, Malfoy. You really don’t remember. Don’t damage my toy ——that means you. And don’t try to hold the sound.’

That jarred something loose, but the sparkles of sweetness was too distracting, Draco barely managed to reply.

‘You know, I actually thought about this before.’ Smiling, Potter pulled his finger out, left for a moment, when he came back, he placed a wooden box on the platform, and flipped open the lid. From the corner of his eyes, Draco saw there were ten exquisitely engraved silver balls lying on red velvet, each bigger than the last. ‘You were so… colourles. As if all of you only had the minimum pigment. I used to wonder whether your hole would be light pink. Turns out it really is. Well, even prettier than I thought it would be.’

Draco felt himself more aroused at Potter’s praise than when he was actually fucked by Potter’s finger.

He lowered his head, trying to conceal his reaction, but Potter had of course caught on to it, and narrowed his eyes: ‘As pretty as you are, Malfoy, I’ll still punish you if you are being a bad boy.’

Praising and scolding in the same sentence. Draco felt himself burning with desire and dropping as if thrown down ten floors, then burning even hotter. He knew this was his warning. Potter was fine with him pulling a little something here and there because he enjoys to play, to chase, to conquer. But Draco already looked away from the memory ball, therefore disobeyed him once. He will not tolerate Draco’s repeat offences. And as that would postpone whatever he’s about to play with the silver balls, he would be even unhappier.

‘Yes, I understand sir.’ Draco answered, his voice breaking a little.

Potter picked up the smallest ball, showing it to Draco: ‘This is actually one of my favourite toys. I never found anyone deserving, but I’m thrilled to use them on you.’

Draco felt something cracking like spring ice in his chest as he heard the words. Next to the memory ball in his hands, the little silver ball looked harmless, innocent even, and of course beautiful. But it’s also familiar.

‘Familiar?’ Potter smirked, ‘Give it a try shall we?’

Surprisingly, the little silver ball wasn’t cold, warming charm perhaps. Potter rubbed it at the rim a few times, and pushed it in.

‘You know what makes it my favourite toy?’ Potter said, his finger drawing a line up Draco’s spine, and the little ball followed, squeezing its way up Draco’s arse. Draco’s hands clenched around the memory ball, gasping as the ball rolled over a certain point inside.

‘Oh, I guess that’s your prostate.’ Potter’s finger drew back and forth a few times, and the ball followed the motion of his finger, screwing over the point ruthlessly.

It was all Draco could do not to cry out in abandon.

‘Music to my ear, Malfoy, music to my ear.’ Potter laughed, his fingers stroked Draco’s hair lovingly, and led the ball over Draco’s prostate again.

Draco had never been touched there before, and white-hot sparkles shot up his spine, he almost came but Potter caught his cock in his hand just in time and squeezed firmly, cruelly denying him that: ‘No no, you haven’t earned your treat yet Malfoy.’

‘No!’ Draco sobbed as the pain forced back his orgasm, ‘please sir, I…’

‘Be good, Malfoy.’ Potter’s hand was gentle again, caressing Draco’s cock, ‘Be good.’

One by one, Potter put seven balls into Draco. Each time Draco was close to orgasm, Potter stopped. Not so brute as the first time, just let Draco cool down from just a step away from his orgasm. When Draco whined and sobbed and shook like the last leaf of autumn, Potter comforted and caressed him, but he wouldn’t concede.

Enduring the size of the seventh ball isn’t easy for Draco, by the time the ball was in, he was on the verge of tears.

‘Good boy.’ Potter petted his head, ‘You did very well. Now I’m going to show you… why I like them so much.’

He snapped his fingers, and they started vibrating.

Draco pitched forward and collapsed on the platform, screaming out at the intense sensation.

‘And the fun begins.’ Potter grinned.

——

‘You know, the way you handled the broom that day, despite being angry, I was more than impressed.’ Potter said, Draco looked back at the sound of swooshing, just in time to see Potter testing out a switch.

Right now, Draco was wearing only his tie, his hands bound and tied to a hook on the ceiling. Potter was cruel enough to hang him high above the ground, and he could only support himself by navigating the broom —— a Nimbus 2000 for Morgana’s sake, where did he even find such an old model?

And he finally figured out why those silver balls looked so familiar. They were made the same way the golden snitches were made. With even more sophistication, one could say. Potter, as the first man whoever touched the balls, he had full control over them. With a snap of his fingers, Potter made the balls stick together, and sitting on the broom would make them sink deeper into him and right against his prostate. He had to alternate between hanging by his arms and sitting on the broom. Two minutes and he was almost desperate for release, but Potter had locked his magic around his cock, forbidding just that.

All at the same time, he had to hold the memory ball in his hands and keep his eyes on it. Potter’s message was clear: the punishment would be over as soon as Draco remembers what he forgot.

Draco looked back up before he thought Potter could spot him, but the switch still landed on his back: ‘Again Malfoy? You know, I would really like to reward you rather than punish you.’

Draco cried out and failed to support himself by his arms, and the balls slammed against his prostate hard before Potter caught him by his waist and supported him so he wouldn’t get hurt. He felt his vision blurr for a second, his body went tense and limp at the same time, his orgasm again pressed close and forced backwards. He broke out a few sobs, begging under his breath: ‘I sorry… Sir please, I need… Potter, I can’t…’

‘You know I have to punish you.’ Potter said softly.

Draco whimpered. And Potter let go. The switch landed again. As it was just a thin and light switch, it didn’t cause too much pain, just enough to sting and leave behind a light stripe of red. The first one mostly just caught Draco by surprise. It landed all over him, twenty or maybe thirty strikes, he groaned and gasped, lost count in the process.

The position was pulling him tight as a fully drawn bow, showing every muscle line of his body. Having his release denied so many times had put Draco on edge, his entire body shaking, those muscle lines and the red stripes decorating his chest, stomach, back, arse, and thighs fluctuated, dazzling as if the tassels of an erotic dancer. Add that to his ruffled platinum hair, red teary eyes, trembling rosy lips, and desperate, pleading yet forbearance expression, the man felt his blood hot as lava, he took a step forward, giving in to his desire.

‘You are… so beautiful like this.’ Potter ran a hand over his back, down his thigh, he threw away the broom and wrapped Draco’s legs around his waist, his hot breath tracing down the side of Draco’s neck, the tip of his nose brushing over the straining muscles of Draco’s flushed chest and stomach, almost kissing the red stripes, and Draco was so tempted to look down at him, desperate to the point of pain to see the man’s display of affection. ‘So delicate yet so powerful. In despair yet so resilient. You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever…’

His voice broke off, his hand stopped abruptly, then pulled back. The loss was almost too much, Draco moaned. This time however, Draco was sure it’s just a ruse to get him take his eyes off the memory ball again. He wouldn’t dare. He’s too close to a delicious orgasm right now, he would do his best to please Potter. He would not disobey him.

_Oh._

And he remembered. This must be why he was being punished. Because he disobeyed Potter’s order to use the salve. He didn’t take good care of his toy. And the Dom wouldn’t tolerate that.

The ball turned green in his hands, making a dulcet clicking sound.

‘I see you finally remembered.’ Potter said slowly, one wave of his wand and the chain slowly released to lower Draco into his embrace.

‘How…’ Draco tried to ask.

‘You waited until all the marks were gone to contact me, and scheduled an early as possible meeting. It was kind of obvious.’ Potter held him gently with those strong arms of his, but stared at Draco with stone cold expression, ‘Now tell me, Malfoy, why didn’t you?’

Draco opened his mouth, but apparently he opened his mouth too quickly, because Potter knew what about to come out would be a lie, and warned: ‘Uh-uh, think carefully before you say anything Malfoy, I will know if you are lying, and I will hang you back up for doubled time.’

Draco swallowed the excuse and apologised: ‘Sorry, sir. I was… distracted by my guilt.’

‘If you don’t feel fine, contact me.’ Potter said, emerald eyes bright and serious, ‘What you should not do, is being irresponsible to yourself .’

‘And I’m sorry, sir.’

Draco was still trembling, his hard cock now staining Potter’s shirt and Gryffindor tie. He was thoroughly shamed and consumed by guilt. He held on to Potter dearly, sobbing quietly on his shoulder. Potter carried him to a black leather sofa and sat down, holding him gently, stroking his back and murmured a spell by his ear. Draco couldn’t understand what Potter said at first, but the silver balls did. They forced their way deep into him, then pulled out in just the right speed, grinding over his prostate one by one.

Draco didn’t notice when Potter removed the magic restraint, as the sensation hit him hard, all he could do was cling to Potter’s shoulder, cry out as a million fireworks went off behind his shut eyes. He finally had his much overdue release, bucking his hips helplessly, shooting his sperm over Potter’s chest and stomach, even a little on his face.

Potter held him close, his hand ran from Draco’s hair to his waist: ‘Apology accepted, beautiful.’


	6. Converse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco talked about what he learned, and needed a little comfort. He managed to get the man talk about himself, but the man cunningly used it against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank lovesanimal for proofreading.

Being whipped front and back means Draco couldn’t lie down either way. It didn’t matter, as Potter seemed to have decided that moving Draco wasn’t a good idea, and Draco’s legs around him was a good position. He just summoned the aftercare box into the playroom to do the aftercare there.

Potter’s cleaning charm felt familiar to Draco now. The salve was less familiar, but Draco felt it would be better not to remind Potter that and his attempt to lie earlier, so he kept his mouth shut.

Potter was also a bit quiet today, dealing with his wounds as gently and carefully as possible like last time. Somehow, the silence wasn’t as pleasant as the man seemed to want it to be.

‘Sir.’ Draco said quietly, ‘Did I do something wrong?’

Potter didn’t look up, just asked: ‘What makes you think so?’

But he quickly forwent that question, simply said: ‘You were beautiful. You did well.’

Yes. And that must be why your cock is only half hard. Draco thought to himself.

But his thought was cut short, as the aftercare work had proceeded to applying a different salve to his arsehole. Potter also seemed to have gotten back his tongue, for he looked up at Draco with those bewitching emerald eyes, a teasing expression on his face: ‘How about you tell me what you learned today?’

The finger probing at the entrance was very distracting, still feeling vulnerable from his intense release and burdened with the thought Potter may not be pleased, Draco was again on the verge of tears: ‘I…uh… I should not harm those weaker than me just because I can.’

‘Good.’ The finger slipped into Draco easily, Draco couldn’t help but moaned and leaned into Potter. Potter stroked his back with the other hand and asked, ‘And?’

His finger is now twisting and stretching Draco’s hole, applying the salve maybe, but playing Draco also. After the long play with the silver balls, the hole is now bright pink, thoroughly slicked and hot like butter. The silver balls stretched him alright, but also made the hole very sensitive and tight, swallowing in the man’s finger reflectively as if eager, while clenching and spasming around it.

It would feel like heaven to pound into it.

The man’s eyes darkened, his fully erect cock pressing against Draco’s thigh, distracting Draco even more. Draco thought hard, but came up with nothing. The man provided: ‘You were angry with me. I admit that addressing the problem directly with me wouldn’t have done you a lot of good back then, but try that next time. And maybe you shouldn’t take it out on someone else.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Draco sobbed as the man’s finger carefully rubbed his prostate, Draco was so sensitive that he was desperate to come again, his hands wrinkled Potter’s robe.

‘Very good.’ Potter ran his hand through Draco’s hair, ‘I guess you deserve a little reward then.’

He took Draco’s cock in his hand, stroking it while massaging Draco’s prostate, gently tipped Draco over the edge, enjoyed his cries and let him ride out his orgasm between his hands.

‘Repeat it for me?’ Once Draco’s breath evened, Potter asked.

‘I should not harm the weak, try to converse about the problem first next time, and never vent my anger on the innocent.’ Draco repeated, a tear fell down as he blinked, he tried to suppress his sobbing but failed.

The man gently held his face in his palm, asking softly: ‘Hey… what’s wrong?’

‘I just…’ Draco forced the words out, ‘You know, I was there. Standing behind… Voldemort, when Longbottom stood up against him, telling everybody, Potter didn’t die in vain, Potter died for all of them. Just because Potter died, doesn’t mean the war ended, that they would fight till the last standing man. I was there, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t one of them.’

The man didn’t say anything, he just wiped the tears off Draco’s cheeks, and held him against his shoulder. Maybe he didn’t want Draco seeing his expression, Draco was not sure.

This is the first time they’ve ever talked about the war. Sometimes it felt as if they fought it, and left it there. They don’t think about it, don’t talk about it, just carried on with their lives. But it was there. It never left. It lives and breathes within them, every moment of happiness, it looms over; every moment of despair, it swallows them whole.

‘When I saw him standing up that day, I saw Potter in him, the eleven-year-old Potter who stood up for him on the Quidditch field years before. Potter never bragged about helping or protecting anyone, but Longbottom became the Longbottom he is because of Potter. More or less, they all had something shaped by Potter.’ Draco broke out a sad and sarcastic laughter, ‘I wanted to be Potter’s friend. I wanted to be the one with him on his grand adventures. I fucking dreamed of it last week. But I couldn’t possibly deserve that. I went on one trip with him, and I abandoned him at the first fright. I was such a coward —— I’m still a coward. I didn’t have a heart of gold, I still don’t, and I never will. It will always be difficult for me to make the right choice, to do the right thing, and I hate myself for it…’

Draco clawed at the ugly mark on his forearm, the pain both eased him and made him tremble in ecstasy.

The man took Draco’s wrist between his fingers, gently pried away Draco’s hand, and clad his other hand over the mark: ‘For what it’s worth Malfoy, it is always difficult for everyone to do the right thing. No one is perfect, we all have our moment of fear and weakness, we all just deal with it, make our mistakes and hope we fail better next time. And I doubt even your Saint Potter was able to make the right choice every time.’

Draco couldn’t help but laughed, looking up at the man with a smile that looked even more beautiful with his red eyes: ‘So I’m allowed to call you Saint Potter?’

‘On second thought, no.’ The man laughed, tapped his arse lightly, ‘Be careful, if you don’t behave, I won’t go easy on you tomorrow.’

‘Eh, tomorrow?’ Draco asked.

The man arched his brow: ‘Yes, tomorrow. Oh —— you didn’t read the punishment clause?’

No, he didn’t. He vanished the bloody thing.

‘Well then, Malfoy, I’ll just tell you ——’ The man grinned devilishly, ‘Every morning for the next week, you would have to come here before you go to work, to get your reminder spanking. I’ll punish you as I see fit, harsher if your report on your meal, shower, sleep and other activities of the previous day was delayed or not satisfying. You can keep the memory ball, consider it a gift. Let it remind you to report your daily activities as you do them. Do you understand why I would ask you to do this?’

Oh fantastic. Draco pressed his forehead against the man’s shoulder. The man definitely had some weird sense of poetic justice. He just fell into the hole he dug for himself, again.

The man kneaded his arse: ‘Answer, Malfoy?’

‘Because I didn’t take care of myself.’ Draco suppressed a groan, the unresisting mindset temporarily brought on by the earlier interactions faded, he was feeling irritated and frustrated now, ‘But honestly Potter, why in the name of Merlin do you care? You are the one put the welts on me in the first place. Can’t you just… I don’t know, not care? Don’t you like the idea of me hurting even outside of this club?’

‘You always have to be so difficult. Nevertheless, I’ll humour you —— Yes. Malfoy. I would enjoy the idea of you feeling my marks. But only under my command. Disobedience I can’t tolerate. Which is why, for the next week, your wounds won’t be addressed after your spanking, you will be required to wear them through the day, and apply the salve in the evening. Let’s see if that can teach you to take care of yourself.’ The man’s hand roamed over Draco’s arse warningly, but he was gentle today, for Merlin knows why, ‘Also, I think you misunderstood what it means to be a Dom. It’s not someone who couldn’t control his temper, hurts and abuses people for fun. On the contrary, it’s someone who enjoys the sense of control. Not control by forcing, but by inducing. At least for me, that is. I will not push you to do anything you don’t want to do. Rather, I will demand you do things you wouldn’t admit to yourself that you want to do. That takes a lot of effort, as I need to pay meticulous attention to your reactions, to your physical conditions and everything. You know, gather all the information, and make adjustments along the way. The goal is not to cause harm. On the contrary, I want to take care of my sub, even repair psychological trauma if possible.’

‘So you beat me up and take care of me?’ Draco retorted, ‘That’s twisted. There’s definitely something wrong with you Potter.’

‘Watch your mouth Malfoy.’ The man slapped his arse, but said with a smile, ‘Actually, the beating part is on you. You are the one wanted to be punished, no? I have a few Galleons in my vault to prove that. I only delivered what you desired. Taking care of you, as per your protest, is my doing. I’m not saying I don’t enjoy playing with you, Morgana as my witness I do. I love carrying out my carefully designed plans, seeing the swelling and the redness, hearing the sounds you make, knowing I caused it. I enjoy the power and control I have over you, but only because you let me have them, so I know I’m not a monster. Not…’

He broke off. He had a stubborn expression on his face, of a man looking back at an internal war he won but wasn’t pleased.

Draco consider himself half a politician. Despite his rejection to most of the Malfoy education, and that he didn’t consider himself any more of politician material than his father who obviously took a side that couldn’t be more wrong, he had learned and grew accustomed to spotting the giveaways in people’s words and expressions. He felt something there, hesitated but couldn’t stop himself: ‘Someone… hurt you before?’

The man was quiet again. Draco wanted to take back his question, but before he could, the man answered: ‘If it’s any comfort, yes. I grew up in a foster home, the people who raised me… let’s just say, I would make a decent house elf. The kind that would fit right in with the ones working on the Malfoy manor, by what I heard. The only difference would be, the household I grew up in favoured belt over cane. Quite a long and heavy one I’m afraid. A weapon of opportunity mostly, he was a big man.’

Draco remembered the man’s reaction when he told him his father had used cane on him.

_That is not the act of someone who deserve the title of father._

He wasn’t just talking about Lucius Malfoy.

‘So you had an entirely different childhood than the real Potter. I’m sure he grew up like a prince, worshipped probably, wherever Dumbledore hid him. Might be good for you though. I think you would make a better Potter.’ Draco tried to conciliate the man in his way, ‘Did you ever get replaced with a better family?’

The man had a strange expression on his face, as if he just heard the most hilarious thing in his life but he’s trying not to sigh: ‘Well, you would think that… but no. No. I had to stay with them till seventh year. But the abuse stopped after I went to Hogwarts. They were afraid of my magic. Until they figured out I’m not allowed to use magic outside the school that is.’

Apparently childcare services of the muggle world suck. They should do something about it. Draco would know, because as the go to planner of fundraising parties and charity events, he knows almost everything that’s going on with the wizarding public services. It’s not because he followed Potter’s political engagements, mind you. Potter took particular interest in war orphans and in extension other children that needed a caring family. As a result, the wizarding world started to have a childcare system. A young, budding, experimenting one, but better than nothing.

‘Then you grew up surprisingly well.’ Draco said, ‘That speaks to one’s character.’

The man smiled: ‘Really. I thought I grew up a twisted sadist that works in a dungeon.’

That’s… true. But…

‘At least you have my consent. And you take care of me.’ Draco said, his cheeks pink, ‘I just feel… I don’t know. That you are much more than this. You are a good man.’

The man looked surprised, but grinned: ‘So you will be careful about your consent, and let me take care of you then.’

‘Wha…’ Draco’s eyes widened, and couldn’t help but laughed, ‘You manipulative BASTARD.’

The man also laughed, his emerald eyes discreetly yet wolfishly taking in Draco’s features as he laughed: ‘That’s ten extra punishment for you Malfoy.’


	7. Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco was making progress in real life. He tried to do better with the man too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a particularly difficult chapter for me, and it took me a long time to try to get it right. I hope you guys will stay with me for the future chapters. 
> 
> Thanks lovesanimal again for proofreading.

Draco was in a foul mood when he arrived at his office.

The end of the year was always busy for Draco, as events line up at his door, each more complicated than the last, waiting to be planned. He wasn’t a pleasant man to work with, his assistant Elise Bookwarm had already accustomed herself with Draco’s temper, but even she ducked behind a plan book and decided to bother Draco as little as possible after witnessing Draco storming into the office for the third day in a row, each day more agitated than the last.

For the past three days, Draco went to ‘Fantasy’ an hour before work as the man requested for his reminder spanking. He debated not to go, but seeing the man before work somehow sounded very tempting. And of course, he learned not to mess with the man, which he would not admit.

The man had given him a similar parchment as he submitted before, with printed schedule for him to fill in what he did and when. The parchment was, of course, charmed. He wouldn’t be able to fill the part of the schedule that’s happened more than ten minutes ago. To begin his brilliant week, he didn’t fill in the first day’s breakfast before he went to see the man. That upgraded his punishment. With a rather amused look, the man took down a hardwood paddle the size of a cauldron, and spanked Draco’s arse bright pink. The extra punishment landed on his thighs.

That was just the beginning. For the following two days, he received extra punishment for a delayed lunch, eating too little, and even a little dehydration. The man was extremely picky. Apparently the aftercares the man did were very effective, as it was a lot more painful than he thought it would be. Also, he lost the fun of using pain to ease his guilt somehow. All he could focus on was that he was marked by the man, and punished by the man throughout the day. He had to move gingerly for the entire day before applying the salve, cast three cushioning charms to his chair, but was aroused the entire time. That face of Potter’s did funny things to him. Release, however, was restricted. Draco really didn’t want the cane.

This morning was the worst, as Draco stayed up too late trying to get the design of charmed mistletoe right last night, so he had to skip breakfast to get to ‘Fantasy’ on time, and he tried to lie his way out.

The man, of course, caught on to his lies immediately.

As always, the man controlled his emotions impressively well. He didn’t say anything, just took his time with Draco, put Draco over his knees, using his hand till Draco was sobbing and writhing on his lap, and admitted he had lied. Only then did he take out the hardwood paddle Draco had familirised himself with in the last two days, spanked Draco’s arse thoroughly till it glowed bright red. By then Draco was outright crying.

As a result, behind the closed door of his office, Draco is now staring daggers at the paper bag on his table debating whether he should sit down.

The man actually apparated somewhere and sent Draco to work with a bag of fresh croissants and a cup of coffee, saying: ‘I understand you are an adult with a career to pursue, that means it’s difficult for you to keep a healthy schedule, but I do not appreciate you lying to me. Also, it seems this punishment has put too much strain on your schedule. As much as I don’t like postponing punishments, I think we’ll have to pick it up at your next appointment. By then you will know, I don’t take lying to me lightly.’

That sounds promising. Draco’s finger tremble in fear and excitement whenever he thought about the upcoming punishment.

Knocking at the door broke Draco out of his thoughts.

‘Yes, Elise?’ Draco pushed his stray hair back, decided standing behind his high back leather office chair would do, ‘Do come in.’

Elise carefully opened the door, her blue eyes seemed innocent and vulnerable brought out by her blue suit: ‘It’s the security detail. The Ministry wants to go over it again…’

Right. That.

This year, he finally convinced those politicians and had been hired to plan the biggest event of the year for the Ministry of Magic. The Yule Ball. Planning such events would require coordination with the Auror department. For some classified reasons, this year’s event needed extra security, and the Ministry was being extra paranoid, asking to double check everything.

‘Fine. Tell them, we’ll do it… Next Thursday.’ Draco flipped through the papers on his desk, ‘By then we would have the basic settings and process ready. We would just be working on the flowers and ornaments.’

Elise didn’t reply.

Draco looked up, and saw Elise biting down on her bottom lip, as if stopping herself from saying something. Then he remembered. Elise, muggle born, studied at Hogwarts, a Ravenclaw to the bone, great at spell work, probably Professor Flitwick’s favourite since Granger, was actually American. Next Thursday would be Thanksgiving, important holiday to celebrate with family for Elise.

He wasn’t a considerate employer. He never cared about that before. They always get a lot of orders both from prestigious families and political and social groups this time of year, so he never gave Elise vacation before. On the contrary, Elise often had to work overtime through the Thanksgiving weekend.

Because he was her boss. Because he paid her good money. Because Thanksgiving was not a mandatory holiday.

Because he could.

He had his fun bossing her around, throwing tantrums whenever he wanted, spitting acerbic words in every sentence. Come to think about it, Elise was one of the few people who would work for Draco the ex-death eater, and the only person who could stand being his assistant for more than three days. Mostly because she grew up in a ghetto, she had to take a student loan to study at Hogwarts, so she couldn’t afford to lose her job.

She was afraid to ask for a day off, because he wasn’t a nice man, more so maybe, as he was extra moody lately.

‘Have the day off.’ Draco said suddenly.

‘Pardon me, Mr. Malfoy?’ Elise widened her eyes.

‘Have the day off.’ Draco repeated patiently, ‘It’s… it’s important. The Yule Ball. I’ll go through the security details with them myself.’

Elise’s eyes brightened, she was almost stuttering: ‘Thank you. Mr. Malfoy. Thank you so much.’

‘Yes yes yes. Now go away.’ Draco pointed at the door, ‘You make a horrible door stop.’

Elise practically bounced out the door.

Draco couldn’t help but smiled a little. Somehow satisfied, he threw himself into his chair, and jumped right up, bit back a yelp, grimacing at the pain. Potter really did a number on his arse.

Then he smiled again.

——

‘I distinctly remember teaching you how to kneel, Malfoy.’

When Potter walked in, he was wearing a pearl white silk shirt with tight black dragonhide waist coat, gloves, pants and boots, smiling as he criticised Draco’s kneeling position.

It was again theme night for the club. Dragonhide and leather seemed to be the theme. This time, unlike last time, the man apparently participated. He asked Draco to come in five minutes earlier than he was available and kneel in the playroom.

‘Don’t make this any harder on yourself.’ He said, biting off the dragonhide gloves.

Yes. True. But as much as Draco want to, complying is not something he can do easily. And all that dragonhide made Potter look like some kind of sex god, his smooth and seductive motion of removing those gloves was making Draco weak at the knees. Not helpful.

Potter laughed a little at Draco’s conflicted expression and his unwillingness to submit, turned the chair by the table around and took a seat: ‘Why do I bother. Extra punishment it is then. Come over Malfoy. Let’s get rid of that attitude of yours first shall we?’

Potter’s lap felt familiar these days. But instead of a place that symbolised torture, it was actually a nice place to be. Draco liked the intimacy, and sometimes the shame, of such proximity to Potter. So it was easier to comply.

Potter settled Draco over his lap, stroked Draco’s arse in circles for a few times, and brought his hand down. Draco groaned a little at the pain, and shifted on Potter’s lap.

Potter just carried on with the spanking, stopped when Draco’s arse was bright pink, his cock erected, and it was getting hard for him to hold still. He pulled at Draco’s platinum hair to make him turn and look at him, teasing Draco: ‘Painful enough for you to comply, Malfoy?’

‘Yes sir.’ Draco whimpered.

‘Good.’ Potter ruffled his hair, but Draco couldn’t find it in himself to feel irritated, just slipped down from Potter’s lap and kneeled in the instructed position.

The position suit him well. Even in such a compromising position, Draco managed to look graceful. With his shoulders pulled back, back straight and head bowed, he was as beautiful as the cursed princess swan would be on the starry lake. His proudly erected cock was a bright colour of pink, painting eroticism over the almost holy pure view. The man reached out and combed Draco’s hair, holding the beauty tightly in his hands. .

‘Now, show me the memory?’ Potter asked.

Draco looked up at the man.

What he and the man had wasn’t much, but weirdly, he trusted him. And he felt good enough about himself to face a terrifying demon in his memory.

Fifth year. Inquisitorial squad.

At the time it didn’t feel like a bad year. He made prefect, Potter didn’t; Umbridge in power meant he was finally on the good side of the headmaster (debatable), and was able to carry out his bullying with legitimacy. He had believed his father —— that he would soon bring honour to their family name. All at the same time, Potter became a liar to the wizarding world.

Potter was different that year. His regular bullying didn’t feel like the childish push and pull before. Potter had grown silent and mature, the one everybody looked up to and depended on. He was far ahead of Draco. For that entire year, all he could see was Potter’s back, thin but unyielding, he would turn at a corner, and he would be gone. If he was a dream to Draco before, he was slipping away. Draco desperately wanted to hold on to him. The only way he knew how was to catch Potter’s violation, and Umbridge would let him do whatever he wanted with Potter. What however, he didn’t know.

He regretted the moment he saw Umbridge slap Potter’s face.

He didn’t know clear enough, or wanted to admit to himself, but he knew Potter carried a lot on his shoulders, and was a man of extraordinary character. He did not deserve that, and again it was Draco who brought it on him.

That slap was what haunted him. He had nightmares about it. He would beg for a Crucio than see Umbridge slap Potter one more time.

For some reason, he desperately wanted to see that Potter again.

‘That…’ Potter somehow laughed, ‘Is actually suitable for the punishment today.’

He stood up to leave, and Draco suddenly panicked, he scrambled forward, reaching for him, hoping to get back the lost intimacy: ‘Look, Potter, I’m sorry about it. I didn’t…’

It took Draco a second to realise that Potter just slapped him on the face.

Not really a hard slap, but enough to stop Draco from talking, slapped his head to the side and raised a shade of pink on his cheek. Draco’s eyes widened and immediately filled with tears, Potter just walked by without looking at him, his hand brushed over the cheek he just slapped, then pushed at Draco’s shoulder lightly but forcefully: ‘Go change, Malfoy.’

Draco complied.

——

Draco was almost done changing when Potter pulled open the dressing room door and came in.

He saw Potter in the mirror and froze.

Potter had taken the de-aging potion. It was not the fifth-year Potter he had hoped to see. It must be what Potter looked like after the war when he dropped out of Auror training. Draco had seen _Daily Prophet_ gush over about that. _How dare the saviour abandon his believers? Let criminals run free on the streets? Every casualty from now on is on the disgraced Harry Potter!_ Yada yada yada. Draco would admit it was hard time for him too. He had stared at the front-page photo for long periods of time. The Potter on the front page stared back at him. He was gaunt, the war seemed harder on him than anyone else, but his eyes were bright, calm, and determined, shining like black diamonds in the ruthless wand-light. Exactly like the Potter he was looking at right now. Aside from being taller and the calmness of the man under the glamour, he was close enough to the fifth-year Potter, when both were young man on a one-man mission against the whole world.

This was beginning to seem like a bad idea. Maybe he underestimated what seeing Potter like that would do to him.

Draco slowly turned around, forgetting his skewed cufflinks. Potter moved closer to him, and raised his hands. Draco already held his breath when that young face of Potter’s was millimeters away without realising, but when he saw what was in Potter’s hand, he felt his blood turned to ice.

Draco had no idea where Potter got it, or maybe what he used to transfigure from, but he never felt more ashamed than this moment right now, standing in his Slytherin uniform, letting Potter hang that prefect badge with the silver ‘I’ under it onto his chest.

‘We need to go to another room.’ Potter said quietly, ‘Follow me.’

‘No.’ Draco said almost instinctively.

Potter stopped abruptly and looked back at Draco, his eyes so clear and green that Draco couldn’t look at them, his tone nonchalant: ‘No one will be in the hallway.’

‘ _No_.’

Draco wanted to get out of the uniform. He didn’t care if he would be naked. He would feel a lot less ashamed that way. He tried to compose himself, but was unsuccessful, and pleaded: ‘Please I…’

He couldn’t speak.

He missed the man at aftercare. He knew the man didn’t like him at the beginning, but he was such a nice man. Self-deception or not, he thought the man had actually begun to care about him, and maybe like him. He wanted that. He wanted the man to stroke his hair, to run his fingers gently across his shoulders and down his back.

He was on the verge of tears, all he could do was pull his lips tight and stare down at the floor, let his stray fringe cover his reddened eyes.

Potter turned and walked back up to him, reached behind his head and pulled him close till his ear was near Potter’s lips: ‘You know what to say.’

Then he stroked Draco’s hair gently a few times before he let go a bit harder than necessary. Draco kept his head low, understood what Potter meant. This was punishment of his own choosing. He could stop at any time. This cruel demeanor of the man was just an act. He wanted the man to be gentle to him, and he wanted to earn it.

He blinked away his tears, did a quick check on himself and followed Potter out.

The hallway was indeed empty. Everyone was having fun in the party room. And where Potter took him was just one door down.

Potter opened the door, and what Draco saw was… hallway.

The hallway of Hogwarts.

Draco was stunned, Potter walked in without waiting for Draco, and when Draco tried to catch up with him, he had already turned over the corner. Draco followed him around the corner, only to be faced with an empty hallway.

Draco stopped, but before he could turn and search for Potter, someone twisted his arm behind him and pushed him into the wall.

Potter slammed him into the wall hard, but the wall had cushioning charms installed, and Potter also used his right hand to break the collision.

‘Were you following me Malfoy?’ Said the young voice of Potter’s, with suppressed anger, irritation and just a tad bit of amusement.

So this was… Okay. He got it.

‘Depends on what you’re up to, Potter.’ Draco popped the P as he used to, and Potter laughed a little. It didn’t sound like he was laughing as the fifth-year Potter, more like the man couldn’t help it.

Potter quickly composed himself, turned Draco around and pinned both of Draco’s hands with one hand above his head: ‘It’s none of your business, Malfoy. Stay out of it or you may get hurt.’

Draco felt the excitement, fear and tingling heat he always felt when confronting Potter, he leaned in close till the tips of their noses were almost brushing: ‘Oh I dare you. What’s the worst you could do to me? Saint Potter.’

Potter’s eyes darkened. He must have struck a nerve there.

‘Yeah?’ Potter frisked him, pulled out his wand and stuffed it in his hand, ‘Hold it. Hex me if you want. Doubt it would itch.’

Then he took out his own wand: ‘Incarcerous.’

The spell bounded Draco’s wrists, just tight enough for him to feel it there, Potter let him off the wall, smiling a little wickedly: ‘You wanted to know where we were? I’ll show you.’

He walked to a blank wall, then walked back and forth three times.

A door actually appeared.

No. It couldn’t be.

But Potter casted another spell, and chain extended from the silver handcuffs on Draco’s wrists, Potter yanked at the chain, and pulled him into the door.

Inside was just Gryffindor dormitory, or rather, one fourth of it, as there was only one bed.

‘That’s the best you can came up with?’ Draco taunted, ‘Oh that boring little head of yours.’

‘So you don’t appreciate a bed?’ Potter arched a brow, ‘Would you rather it be an empty classroom, or you prefer the hallway? Should have known you were an exhibitionist Malfoy. Always made our little affair so public.’

Draco blushed hard at Potter’s words.

Potter floated the foot stool to the end of the bed and pulled at his chains until he kneeled there, then attached the chain to the headboard, shortened the chain till Draco couldn’t straight his back.

‘What’s the point of having a bed if you don’t use it?’ Draco propped himself up on his elbows and looked up at Potter, his eyes teasing and provocative.

‘You don’t deserve my bed, Malfoy.’ Potter retorted coldly, ‘Besides I’m not going to fuck you. I’m just going to teach you a lesson.’

He then tilted his head, taking a moment as if admiring the view: ‘You do look exceptionally good on your knees. Maybe you should do that more often.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’ Draco felt his ears burning, ‘And I’ll be the prettiest thing you’ll ever see on their knees.’

‘That’s probably true.’ Potter said, taking off his belt, ‘But talking like that is just going to make things harder for you.’

‘I thought we are not going to fuck.’ Draco was immediately turned on by the swift motion of Potter taking off his belt, staring as Potter walked up to him, and pulled down his trousers and pushed aside his robe. He knew what was coming, he just couldn’t help himself.

‘We are not.’ Potter said, then he wrapped the belt around his hand a few rounds and raised it.

The belt struck with a crack, landing across both arse cheeks, and Draco groaned regardless of his effort to save face. The belt caused exploding pain on the surface, as well as sending pain deep into the muscles. The second strike landed, and Draco had to bite down on the cuff of his sleeve at the pain. Oh this is going to be difficult to endure.

‘How do you feel about taking pleasure from the pains of others now Malfoy?’ After a few strikes, Potter pulled Draco’s hair back and scolded, ‘When it is you in pain?’

Draco gasped tearfully, but talked back nonetheless: ‘You said something about taking pleasure?’

Potter sneered.

Again, Potter was surprisingly skilled with a belt, he controlled the force and pace, reddening Draco’s arse and upper thigh just within Draco’s endurance. To be fair, he wasn’t too cruel, Draco’s hard cock spoke to that. He never thought he would be into pain, but the man had a way to arouse pleasure from the pain. However, Draco was delicate, soon he couldn’t keep up the counting, just trying his best not to fall off the bed, moaning and sobbing at the pain.

‘Anything you would like to say now?’ Potter lifted Draco’s chin, stroking teasingly, ‘No? I guess that’s progress then.’

By then Draco’s arse was a beautiful and painful rosy red, swollen up and radiating heat. His face was kind of a mess too, wet by tears and flushed, but there’s something about Draco that always made him look more beautiful when he was vulnerable, makes the man torn between protecting him and ruining him.

‘You know what I hated most about the inquisitorial squad?’ Potter asked, his voice icy cold.

He smacked Draco’s arse hard this time, enjoying the view as Draco cried out in pain, his arse tensing and tilted to the side, it took a while for him to relax trembling.

‘It’s how you forced out the worst in people.’ Potter said, landing another harsh smack that had Draco sobbing, ‘You forced people to turn on each other. You made people live in terror, without trust, made them do things they regret for life.’

Potter buried his hand into Draco’s hair, pulling and stroking, leaned in close, speaking softly while landing another hard blow: ‘Anything you would like to say?’

He wasn’t asking to further the punishment. The punishment he delivered is approaching his own limit. He was asking for confirmation from Draco that he deem himself punished enough. But he was going to stop anyway.

Draco couldn’t notice anything other than the pain, he clawed at the bedsheet, crying out as tears rolled down his cheeks: ‘I’m sorry, Potter, I’m truly sorry about it.’

It wasn’t all his doing, but he was the accessory. He knew he helped ruin more than a handful of friendships and relationships. Those were the deeds he would regret for life.

‘I’m really… really sorry.’ Draco sobbed.

‘Good.’ Potter stroked his hair.

Draco enduring pain was something more beautiful than he could ever imagine it to be, him lying prone on his bed, platinum hair loose and presenting a stark contrast to his red bedsheet, sobbing and apologising… he almost couldn’t resist it, leaned in without thinking to kiss away the tears.

Then he heard, Draco say so quietly and softly that he almost missed it: ‘ _James_.’


	8. Who

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little talk after the safe word was used, with the happy ending of oral and masturbation. Draco got cleaned up and was allowed to stay over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My usual proofreader is unavailable during the holiday, but I wanted to say merry Christmas to you all, so I’m back to making mistakes. I initially wanted to finish the Yule Ball chapter for Christmas, but I’m not fast enough, and that chapter might be a little blue. So I settled for this. But looking back, this chapter also has a lot of angst. I hope you all like this update, though it’s a bit late, but there must be somewhere in the world that’s still Christmas. Remember, your comment is the best present for me. 
> 
> Merry Christmas.

The man was off him immediately, Draco heard him vanished the cuff, the chain and the belt with an audible spell to comfort him.

‘Are you alright?’ He asked softly, ‘What would you like me to do?’

‘Can you…’ Draco tried. But it’s so difficult for him to admit his need, both about the punishment and about the comfort.

Regardless, the man understood. He gently and quickly ripped off the badge and vanished it, took off Draco’s robe, pants, underwear and shoes and cast a protective charm to protect Draco’s abused arse from chafing, wrapped Draco in a blanket, put him on the bed and held him close.

It felt different from last time. Last time Potter’s arms and chest were firm, now, he could feel Potter’s clavicle distinct against his forehead. But it didn’t make the embrace less comforting. Draco leaned into Potter as close as possible, grabbing his collar tight.

‘When you feel better, would you like to talk about it?’ The man asked quietly, ‘You didn’t want me to k…’

‘No… Please. I don’t want to talk about it.’ Draco said, his voice still a bit broken.

The man didn’t say another word, just ran his hand along Draco’s back. Draco could tell he probably had the curiosity to kill ten times the cats Draco’s ever did, but the man controlled himself well.

‘Could you please…’ Draco lowered his head further.

He still couldn’t speak out his need, but the man as the meticulous Dom he was, again understood. He carefully ran his fingers through Draco’s hair, gently disentangle and straighten out the platinum strands. Draco never thought he would like the man playing with his hair. He initially thought it would just be the man’s little slip up, his unconscious revelation of his fetish, but it’s apparently rubbing off on him. He had always hated it when his friends so much as touch his hair, but he could be aroused or fall asleep with the man’s hand in his hair.

Draco felt better after a little while, he forced out a laugh: ‘New definition for a new notch in your belt?’

‘Well, I lost my entire belt.’ Potter said, his tone carefully humourous and regretful, ‘I kind of liked that one.’

Draco laughed a little: ‘Your pain is my pleasure Potter.’

Potter laughed too, his chest vibrated and tickled Draco, his hand reached behind Draco and grabbed Draco’s arse just hard enough for Draco to gasp: ‘I guess we had more in common than we both care to admit.’

He proceeded to stroking Draco’s arse, and they fell silent for a while.

It took a while for Draco to realise something didn’t feel right. He knew the man vanished the belt to make sure he would feel safe. But that seemed a little extreme. And of course he couldn’t forget what the man told him about his childhood.

Draco hesitated, and looked up at the man: ‘Are you uh, are you alright?’

‘Yes. Why?’ The man seemed confused, but he soon understood what Draco was concerned about, and he smiled a little, mostly because he really was fine and wanted to comfort Draco, ‘Yes. I’m alright. I overcame my psychological problem about it a long time ago. Actually, I first came to understand my desire as a Dom when I was about fifteen. I didn’t have any experience, couldn’t get any proper sexual education or find any how to guide, and Hogwarts didn’t have internet, so my fantasy worked with what I knew. Belt. It was where I started. Besides, belting for fun or pain play is greatly different from violence.’

He tone was light, then it went cold. Draco didn’t think the man had lied when he said he got over it a long time ago, but it was not fully behind him. Somehow, he felt he had to ask: ‘What do you mean by different…?’

The emerald eyes of the young Potter were cool, like lake just before frosting over: ‘There are three ways to maximise the damage of a belt. One, use the full length of it. Swing the whole thing, and it would come down hard. The longer the belt, the harder the blow. If you want to minimise damage when someone is using the full length of a belt, do not try to avoid it. The further you get away, and harder it would be. Two, double it. The blow would be heavier that way. Frankly nothing can be done about that.’

The man was stroking Draco’s hair again, but Draco got the feeling that he was comforting himself more than comforting Draco: ‘And three, hold it upside down. Use the metal belt buckle.’

Draco was already unease at the first two, and his blood went cold at the last one.

The belt already carried a good bite when the man wrapped it around his hand to shorten it. He couldn’t begin to imagine how painful it would be to be hit by the belt buckle. Not to mention, the man was awfully little when this all happened.

Draco was shaking, but the man was still speaking. Draco knew from experience the man was able to pick up any changes in him, no matter how little, for the man to overlook his shaking, he must be very distracted: ‘In that case, it is vital to angle one’s body so the belt buckle wouldn’t hit anywhere important.’

Draco couldn’t bear to listen anymore, he reached out and held the man down to his chest.

The man went stiff.

Draco felt embarrassed, but he didn’t want to let go: ‘Listen, I know we’re not friends or anything. You probably didn’t even like me. But… I’m sorry someone did that to you when you were so little. They shouldn’t have done that. You didn’t deserve that. Nobody deserves that. I… I don’t know. I…’

The man didn’t respond. Draco was beginning to think this might be very inappropriate. Draco was about to let go when he felt the man’s arms suddenly around his waist. The man was holding him very tight, a bit too tight, but Draco was glad. The young Potter somehow felt small in his embrace, vulnerable and hungry for love like a child at a new foster home for the first night, terrified and so hopeful he would get his first goodnight kiss. Draco lowered his head, and kissed the top of the man’s head. The messy black hair was surprisingly soft, Draco couldn’t help but ran his fingers through them, and held the man close.

He hoped he could be of some comfort, but he didn’t have much experience, and never considered himself good at it.

Maybe he should think about something to say. To distract. Yes.

‘So,’ Draco said slowly, ‘you said you felt your desire to be a Dom at about fifteen?’

If the man felt the change was too abrupt, he didn’t say anything, nor did he let go of Draco, just loosened his hold a little, found a more comfortable position, still settling himself quite closely to Draco. He answered honestly: ‘Yes. It’s no different from any other person start fantasising about having sex with someone. Not necessarily in love, just traits in someone attracted me sexually, made me want to put him on his knees, over my lap, tie him up, spank him, make him cry and apologise, and such.’

Draco was really good at picking up the flaws in people’s words: ‘Him? You were gay?’

‘Not exactly.’ The man said, ‘Men or women, these concepts meant very little to me. Most social conventions did. I only care about their souls, if that’s the right word for it. Male, female or transgender or anything in between, I don’t have a preference. I believe they recently defined this as pansexual.’

‘You are a weird one Potter.’ Draco laughed, but he could tell from those smiling emerald eyes that the man knew that he really meant admiration, ‘But still, you said him. Not her, not them. So there was someone special.’

‘Yes.’ The man confessed.

‘Who was he?’ Draco knew he probably shouldn’t probe, but his curiosity was killing him. He, unfortunately, didn’t have the self-control the man had.

‘Do you really want to know?’ The man looked up at Draco, he had that wolfish glint in his eyes, and he tried not to look amused.

No. Draco immediately decided. The answer was probably bad news. But he really wanted to know.

The man pulled him up, and Draco stumbled to stand, grabbing at the blanket to cover himself as the man dragged him through the door. He held Draco’s hand as they went back to room 6. As he was opening the door, he turned back and smiled wickedly at Draco.

**‘You.’**

Draco was stunned as the man dragged him to the table.

Him.

He was the one who unleashed the monster in the man, who fueled the man’s fantasies of being a Dom for probably quite some time.

He couldn’t process this information very well right now, but he was turned on.

The man apparently, was back to his normal self and picked up on it immediately. He smiled knowingly, taking off his clothes as he went, leaving on only his trousers, sat where he sat earlier when spanking Draco with his legs apart, and demanded: ‘Kneel.’

The suggestion was clear. Draco was only too happy to comply. He even got the position as good as possible so he could deserve his treat.

The man smiled fondly at him, reached out to hold his face and ran the pad of his thumb across Draco’s bottom lip: ‘I’m going to teach you how to do it the way I like it. It’s only your first lesson, so I’ll make it easy.’

The man looked even better half naked than Draco imagined. He wasn’t that extremely muscular type, but he had all the right muscles and lines to make front page of a magazine. He was already short his belt, and the button and zipper yielded so easily under the heavy weight of his erected cock. Draco, when at the prime of his ego, had always thought it’s a pity that most men don’t have a good looking cock like he does. Like the man once said, colours were light on Draco, and his cock was a perfect shade of seductive pink. The man’s cock was a different story.

It was quite long and heavy, perking up from the curly black hairs, darker than his skin tone, a pleasant mild shade of brown, with the angry purple and blue blood vessels bulging through. It was beautiful, but in a different, primitive and beastly way.

The man was more than hygienic. His pubic hair looked trimmed, but still a lost cause, messy just like his hair. Even when his cock was right in front of Draco’s face, Draco could only smell the faintest smell of sea salt mixed with apple and chocolate, the man’s shampoo perhaps. The man traced the tip of his cock across Draco’s lips, painting his lips with his precum until they glistened, enjoying the view. Draco couldn’t help but parted his lips a bit, inviting the man in. The man just rested his cock on Draco’s bottom lip.

‘Once I fuck into your mouth, it’s going to be hard for you to say your safe word.’ The man cast a spell and both of Draco’s hands were hung to the ceiling by ropes, loosely this time, Draco could easily raise his hands higher and his wrists wouldn’t hurt. ‘This way I will be able to see your hands. You open and close one hand if you need me to slow down, both hands if you need me to stop.’

‘And you wouldn’t be able to touch your self.’ The man said as he stepped on Draco’s cock hard enough for Draco to want to thrust into the sole of his bare foot, he hadn’t ejected since their last play. ‘That’s something I always don’t want you to do when you have my cock in your mouth, because I want you to devote all your concentration to your reward. Understood?’

‘Yes, sir.’ Draco answered, at lost as the man took his foot off his cock.

‘Now you may have a taste.’ The man smiled.

Draco shakily sticked out his tongue and licked at the tip of the man’s cock. Rationally, he knew there’s no way any human’s cock would taste good, but maybe it’s because he was just using the tip of his tongue, maybe it’s some other psychological reasons, the man’s cock tasted a faint sweetness.

He was eager for more, and the man wasn’t petty. He drew his cock along Draco’s tongue a few times, then pushed into Draco’s mouth as far as Draco could take. Draco was never the one that liked getting on his knees when he was with other people, he had his practice, but it didn’t make him good at it. The man, of course, was special. Draco didn’t mind at all, if not too willing. He took as much as two third of the man’s cock into his mouth, before the man could see he was struggling with it, and drew out a little to give him room to breath before thrusting in again. The man was patient and composed as ever, as if it weren’t his cock in Draco’s mouth, just methodically forcing his cock deeper and deeper into Draco’s throat until Draco’s eyes teared up and he was finally able to take the full length of the man into his mouth.

The man kept his cock there, deep against Draco’s throat, taking in the view, his emerald eyes vibrantly green.

The man wasn’t unmoved, Draco could tell from the shining sweat appearing on his forehead and bare shoulders, and his breath that was growing heavy. He felt naughty and swirled his tongue around the man’s cock as best as he could with the little space the man left him.

The man’s breath hitched, his eyes changed, becoming even more predatory. He stroked Draco’s left cheek: ‘Like it, little kitten? Oh you are definitely more kitten than a cub, arrogant, disobedient, attention whore.’

Somehow, he made the dirty word sound fond.

‘I don’t usually appreciate you challenging me, but by all means, show me how much you like it.’

Call me a kitten, I’ll show you a kitten. Draco was in a playful mood. He circled his tongue at the head as he would do to a lollipop, licked at its length as he would do to ice cream, sucked at it, trying to take it as deep into his throat as possible a few times then let it slip out, licking at the precome at the tip like a little kitten licking up milk.

The man laughed at that, stroked his hair and told him: ‘Play time is over kitten. Now wrap your teeth in your lips, hollow your cheeks. Yes.’

Draco bobbed his head a few times, felt the cock in his mouth throbbed and grew even bigger. The man, however, still seemed composed, just told him: ‘Careful. I don’t want you to choke on it. Yet.’

Maybe the man had incredible endurance, maybe Draco was really bad at blow jobs, it took him a while to get the man near his orgasm. By then Draco’s jaw was sore, he could feel his saliva tainting his chin.

When he did, he abruptly grabbed Draco’s hair and stood up, fucking into Draco’s mouth hard. Draco could hardly breath, he had to hold on to the rope that strung him up to stay in the place, but still he felt faint at the strong and graceful moves.

‘Going to mess you up a little bit. Okay, beautiful?’ The man asked and waited, when Draco didn’t open his hands, he bucked his hips hard a few times and shot the first few strands down Draco’s throat before he pulled his cock out, stroked it and shot on Draco’s face.

Now Draco was kneeling on the floor, his platinum hair ruffled, silver eyes teary and red rimmed, lips chafed rosy and swollen, cum tainting his pretty face and part of his shirt and Slytherin tie, cock hard between those lean pale legs wearing only black socks and garters, arse still red and plump. He was burning with desire, the colour of his eyes gleaming like liquid mercury. Probably the most beautiful scene the man’s ever seen, and a frame taken right out of his childhood fantasy.

The man stepped on Draco’s left shoulder until Draco slowly fell back and lied on his side, then moved his foot to Draco’s cock, treading lightly to make Draco moan and nudged Draco’s tight balls with his toes to torture him some more. Finally, he satisfied himself and said with a wicked smile: ‘Touch yourself.’

Draco was only too eager to comply. For a moment, he forgot about all his morals and his sense of shame, just stroked himself in abandon and came hard.

He must have masturbated hundreds of times before, but this was different, and way better.

The man let him take his time to come down from his orgasm and catch up with his breath, enjoying the even more beautiful view, then smiled a cruel smile.

‘Now.’ He lifted the chair with one hand and turned it back around, looking down at Draco, ‘Have a seat.’

‘What…’ Draco widened his eyes, staring as the man threw away the seat cushion and lifted the cushioning charm, leaving only the tall, hardwood chair.

He remembered the pain of sitting in his office chair with three cushioning charms. He could only imagine how painful it would be to sit directly on the hardwood.

‘Have a seat.’ The man repeated, humoured by Draco’s horrified expression, ‘It’s time for your extra punishment.’

‘What extra punishment?’ Draco was dumbfounded.

‘You lying to me. Remember?’ The man summoned parchment and quill from the office room, ‘You are going to sit down, and write “I must not tell lies” a hundred lines.’

Draco’s eyes shot to the back of the man’s left hand at that.

The glamour of the man really was incredibly detailed. Down to the lightning scar, and the scar on the back of his hand. And very authentic too. He could recognise that ugly scribble of Potter’s anywhere.

‘To be fair, your handwriting is terrible.’ Draco couldn’t help but commented.

The man arched his brow: ‘Do you want to write two hundred lines?’

‘No. I’m sorry sir.’ Draco said, but still suppressing his smile, ‘But I was telling the truth. You apparently didn’t want me to lie.’

‘Yes, I don’t want you to lie. But a good sub shall only speak when spoken to or given permission, and should always respect their Dom. It’s a lesson you will learn.’ The man said calmly, ‘And since you are so critical of my handwriting, I’ll check yours after you finish. You will sit back to this chair and rewrite every line I deem careless.’

‘Yes sir.’ Draco answered resignedly.

It was excruciating, sitting on his sore arse and write lines as neat as he could manage.

Draco tried his best not to hiss or squirm, but he was already making a good show for the man, as the man was enjoying his cup of tea on the couch behind him, some parchments he took from the office untouched.

‘You know, maybe you should try apologise to him.’ The man said out of the blue, his tone careful, ‘It might help ease your guilt. Help with your process of recovery.’

‘Who?’ Draco was getting irritated at the pain of sitting on the hardwood chair. He was only half listening to the man.

‘You know, _him_.’ The man said, ‘The one who drove you here —— Potter.’

Draco’s quill stopped.

He suddenly realised he was losing the grip on the fact that the man was just a glamour he hired. The real Potter probably still see him as the person he was before, and hate him as much as before.

‘I doubt he would stand being in the same room with me.’ Draco forced the words out of him, ‘And I fail to see how seeing my face would help his process of recovery. Doesn’t that matter? He would be better off if I never again appear in his life.’

He was so irritated that the tip of his quill scraped the paper: ‘Besides, his friends hardly get to see him. What should I do, drop in on Weasley’s birthday?’

‘He’s going to that Yule Ball you are planning.’

Draco could hardly feel his physical pain right now. Potter was coming. To the Yule Ball he was planning. He never came to any of the Yule Balls before. That must be why the Aurors were so…

He couldn’t think straight.

‘I don’t think it’s a good idea.’ Draco finally said.

‘It is of course, your choice.’ The man said quietly.

——

Draco’s handwriting was trained by his father’s cane. He could write beautifully with his eyes closed or half asleep, proven by the nights before deadlines back in Hogwarts. Except from needing his wand to repair the scratch on the parchment, he did his lines perfectly.

Although he suspected the man wouldn’t give him any more punishment anyway.

The scene had taken a toll on Draco, both emotionally and physically. He asked the man if he could stay longer for the aftercare, and the man smiled.

‘I’m glad you think more about caring for yourself now.’ The man picked him up without asking if Draco could walk, and Draco wasn’t going to complain, ‘If you want, you can stay the night with me.’

‘With you?’ Draco was surprised, ‘Where?’

‘Well,’ The man said slowly, ‘We were just there.’

Draco remembered that room, and his question about it: ‘What is it? That room. That can’t be the room of requirement.’

The man hesitated, then explained: ‘No. it isn’t. But… this entire dungeon is a room of requirement. Or rather, an updated version of it. Think of it as a room of requirement that only listens to one person, its true owner. He can easily change everything in this dungeon, and allow or reject anyone’s entry or departure. The owner gives everyone in this dungeon his preferred clearance. As you can see, each of the employed Dom has their own room, and we are free to do anything to our rooms within the limits of our contract at hiring. But changing still takes a lot of magic, so we mostly keep it constant, only make changes when we need to. So, I didn’t take you to another room. It was still room 6, I just required a new door on the wall to make you think that’s a different room.’

A door appeared on the wall near an Andrew’s Cross in the playroom to reveal that Gryffindor dorm room: ‘We can get to this room any number of ways. It’s a room I kept as constant for myself to rest or stay the night. You are the first person ever there.’

‘And you had to drag me out into the hallway! You bastard!’ Draco accused.

The fact that this dungeon was a product of such high level magic was surprising, but reasonable. Clientele of this place and the nature of the activities taking part here required some caution. The man pinched Draco’s waist at the cursing: ‘Watch your mouth.’

Draco yelped but didn’t stop snickering: ‘You don’t need to be so devoted to your job. That’s the exact replica of the Gryffindor dorm.’

‘It’s what my old dorm room used to look like.’ The man said.

Then Draco remembered. The man had an abused childhood. According to what he said, he had to stay with that horrible family till his legal age. Hogwarts probably served as a safe haven for him, the first place he ever felt safe and free. It’s quite understandable why he would choose to set up his temporary bedroom as so. And Draco realised something, his eyes went wide: ‘ _You were Gryffindor?!_ ’

‘Er, yes?’

‘ _You_ were Gryffindor?’ Draco couldn’t believe it, ‘But you were so… I could have sworn you were Slytherin.’

The man laughed as he went through another door that appeared on a wall and entered a bathroom: ‘It was a close call. Sorting hat hesitated between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and I chose Gryffindor. If I were Slytherin, maybe you would know me better… You would have recognised me by now.’

‘Who in their right mind would choose Gryffindor? They haven’t won house cup since forever.’ Draco was still talking as the man let him down in the bathtub and gestured him to strip, pouting but he wouldn’t admit, ‘Oh I know, it’s because of Potter isn’t it? You chose Gryffindor because he did.’

‘Umm… yeah actually.’ The man casted a protective charm on Draco’s arse so the hot water wouldn’t hurt him more, spelled the tap hotter before turning it on, then splashed a little on Draco’s hand, ‘Since you are staying the night, I’m guessing you prefer shower over cleaning charms, and you probably like your shower hotter than I do. Is this good for you?’

‘I knew it! Potter always had to ruin everything! If you were in Slytherin, we could have been best friends.’ Draco was not happy, ‘Potter just had to ruin everything for me —— yes. Thank you. This is perfect.’

The man laughed.

‘What’s so funny?’ Draco was irritated.

The man tilted his head, let the water run through his hand to make sure the temperature was constant, even though he knew his spell was solid: ‘It’s just… I never thought I would consider you being juvenile so cute.’

Draco blushed at that.

The man couldn’t stop laughing but didn’t say anything, he didn’t get in the bathtub, just began showering Draco, as a man would to his beloved cat. As difficult as Draco, he was a lot easier to deal with in the shower than a cat. And the man was gentle and thorough, washed Draco entire body with abundant care, took his time with Draco’s hair as he messed them up quite some earlier. Draco hadn’t felt anything so divine as the man massaging his scalp with the soft floral scented foam.

The man had quite some expensive hair potions and shampoos stocked in a cabin, but he didn’t seem like the type. There were simpler ones next to the fancier ones that Draco could recognise the scent as what the man used. When Draco asked him about it, the man was thoughtful: ‘It’s a thing for me. Taking care of my sub. I’ve always imagined mine to be a picky brat that wouldn’t accept anything less than the best. I would punish him, but I would also spoil him.’

That sounds awfully a lot like him. Maybe he shaped the man, just a little, by being the man’s first sexual fantasy. But it would seem too narcissistic to say anything about it. Besides, something else caught Draco’s attention: ‘What do you mean by… your sub?’

‘I work here, and you… you are a client. Although what we had were consensual, you are mostly paying for the matchmaking, the room, and my time and expertise.’ The man said, his tone tentative, ‘Most of the Doms here are not in need of money. This is just a place where they meet the like minded. Some of the them just rent the rooms from the owner to play with their own sub —— someone they claim as their own. Similar to a man keeping a pet, some keep several, some only has one.’

Right. Another thing he forgot. The man was on his payroll. So what was he, stray cat that was feed every time he meowed at the man’s door?

He didn’t say anything about it. His pride wouldn’t allow him.

‘So how many do you have?’ Draco asked instead. He was feeling a little cold after the shower, and the man quickly wrapped him in a big fluffy towel and carried him back to the bed to address his wounds.

‘Er, none.’ The man said, applied the cleaning charm as usual and started rubbing the salve.

Draco hissed at the pain, but he actually felt better at the man’s answer: ‘Why? You are a great Dom.’

‘Thanks. I guess.’ The man smiled a little, ‘I just never met anyone compatible. Every sub I met was never just right, always too much there or not enough here. I didn’t think it would be fair to take on the responsibility of taking care of someone if I couldn’t be fully devoted. And I had a lot of issues to work with. I used to have nightmares every night. Now I’m not very sure. Sometimes I would wake up exhausted, but I don’t have roommates now, so no one can wake me or tell me for sure.’

Draco had a new focus now. He reached to place his hand on the man’s thigh, smiling warmly and playfully: ‘I’m sure you’ll feel better having a warm body next to you.’

The man hesitated a moment, but Draco could see he already made up his mind: ‘Fine. I’ll keep you on the bed today.’

‘…What do you mean?’

‘Well,’ The man casted a spell and a basket with black and red velvet bedding was dragged out from under the bed. It looked like a dog bed, just a lot bigger. ‘I planned to rest you there. I’m still putting the collar on you though.’

The man said, pulling out a black and red riveted furry leather collar that was buried behind the pillows, dangling it on his finger, making its chain clutter. Draco was more than turned on, he swung his arms around the man’s neck, and tilted his head seductively: ‘Gladly, sir.’


	9. Handshake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparation of the Yule Ball. The Yule Ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one actually danced at the Yule Ball. The chapter might be a little blue.   
> My usual proofreader won’t be available for a while, so bear with me or offer your help.   
> Love you all.

Draco had the best sleep he ever had in years. The man wasn’t the only one who had nightmares. Draco was once dangerously close to addicted to dreamless sleep. The ones about Potter that haunted him were better since he started his affair with the man, and the ones about Voldemort didn’t dare bother him that night with Potter holding him tight. 

He woke up once in the middle of the night for unknown reason, and his first instinct was to check if the man was okay. 

The man was sleeping so soundly that he looked like a baby in the gentle moonlight, his long eyelashes resting on his cheeks like papilio bianor. The effect of the de-aging potion had past, but Draco couldn’t help but wonder for a moment what it would be like if he was dating the man back in Hogwarts, maybe he would sneak into Gryffindor dorm at night so the man wouldn’t have nightmares anymore. His heart ached as he knew he wasn’t capable of that back then. 

Then the man shifted in his sleep, pulled Draco back against his warmth, and Draco was asleep again. 

When he woke up, the man was gone, leaving a note apologising for leaving him in his sleep, saying that something had came up and he had to leave in a rush. He also said he might be difficult to reach during the Christmas season, left a charmed crystal heart behind, saying if he didn’t respond to Draco’s owls, breaking it would alert him and he would apparate to his location at the earliest convenient. 

Draco placed the heart in his concealed pocket. 

——

Draco was in a good mood the entire week until Thursday. 

Thursday half rained half snowed in a very annoying way. Regardless, Draco had to go to the venue he booked for the Yule Ball, the Carmen Finca, yet all magical ways onto the property were forbidden before the Yule Ball for security reasons. He had to walk a considerable distance to get there in the icy rain. All the warming and drying charms he casted didn’t feel effective at all.

In some ways, he was like a cat. A really grumpy cat when its fur was wet. 

To top it up, the ministry official he’s been working with, Mr. Sugarball, was late. The Auror assigned to the Yule Ball security detail was Auror Forgecount, a rather silent and built man, never said one word that wasn’t absolutely necessary. They sat in awkward silence and waited, but Draco suspected the reason Forgecount didn’t greet him was not he wasn’t talkative. 

This was why Draco didn’t want to go over the security detail by himself. Not all people were understanding when it comes to his past mistakes. 

When Sugarball arrived, he looked like a fat hamster that unfortunately fell over and had a good roll in mud. And he wasn’t alone. 

He was with Weasley. Ronald, Weasley.

It had been a while since Draco last saw Weasley, and he didn’t exactly pay much attention to him. Come to think about it, he remembered every detail of what Potter looked like on the day of the Weasley-Granger Wedding, but he couldn’t even remember whether Weasley was wearing black or white. 

Today he wore a brownish crimson coloured robe that had seen better days. Judging by what was left of the lines of the robe, Granger did an impressive job nurturing his manners. He was tall and built, clean shaved, his red hair long and in a neat low ponytail. He could easily be mistaken as an Auror rather than a joke shop co-owner. Draco would reluctantly label him as a ruggedly handsome looking man, but Granger still could do better. And he really shouldn’t ask Potter to be his best man. No one other than Granger would spare him a glance with Potter standing next to him. 

One look at Weasley, Draco knew Weasley was thinking the same thing as he was: What the hell was he doing here?!

Sugarball wiped his face with a handkerchief and introduced nervously: ‘This is Mr. Malfoy. The planner of the Yule Ball. This is Mr. Weasley. Mr. Potter’s personal security contractor.’ 

If he were younger, Draco would have so much fun mocking that one sentence. Of course Potter would have personal security. And Weasley would happily be his bodyguard. And Potter’s security being a manchild working at a joke shop. But it actually made a lot of sense. Even with Granger as the rising star in the Ministry of Magic, politics were still complicated and revolting. The Ministry couldn’t be trusted to always put Potter’s well-being in the first place. And Weasley, despite Potter stealing all the spotlight, was probably one of the most powerful wizard alive too. The Weasley Joke Shop also had a lot of inventions beyond imagination. Not to mention the years of friendship with deep trust. It’s a logical and wise choice of security contract. 

‘Mr. Weasley.’ Draco said first, his tone polite but not distant, ‘I hope everything went well since our last encounter.’ 

Weasley was surprised, Draco had to clear his throat to jerk him from his stunned state: ‘Uh, Mal… Malfoy. Yes. You too.’ 

Any sentence more than two words? Draco wanted to retort, but stopped himself. 

Forgecount took lead of the tour, showed Draco, Sugarball and Weasley the protective spells and planned manpower distribution. Weasley tested a few windows and doors, and asked if he could plant something there. 

‘For what?’ Draco asked. 

‘Tracking powder.’ Weasley said, shaking a glass ball with next to invisible clear dust in it, ‘Anyone who passes through the window or door with unnecessary speed would be automatically marked by it. Just fail safe.’ 

‘I’ll think of some way to hide it among the decorations.’ Draco nodded, he then looked up at the ceiling, ‘I know there’s no windows there, but someone could still breach from the ceiling of the top floor. And I don’t think anyone would have any reason to go on the roof. So maybe place some of your powders there?’ 

Weasley looked surprised, and Draco was beyond irritated: ‘You not capable of being anything other than surprised Weasley?’ 

Weasley somehow relaxed at that: ‘Now I’m sure you are not polyjoiced.’ 

Draco stared at Weasley with heat: ‘I what? Oh I sincerely hope the new generation of Weasleys will have your wife’s brain rather than yours. I can’t imagine what goes on in yours.’ 

‘Uh, that a compliment?’ 

‘Sure, why not. It’s no secret Granger is the brightest.’ Draco bit out, ‘But seriously Weasley, I was trying to insult you.’

And now Weasley got that madly in love goofy smile on his face. Draco can never understand that. How someone could cherish someone so much that all the stars of their world circles around that single person. Or if he was honest to himself, he can. He just didn’t see himself as the one being loved and cherished. He was wearing the same wind coat the day he left ‘Fantasy’, and he could still smell the floral scent of those expensive potions the man used on him. Reminder of the borrowed cherish he enjoyed. 

‘I guess I just have a really low standard for you after all these years. I consider you complimenting Mione a win.’ Weasley shrugged, ‘And to be fair, you had been more than polite before I provoked you.’ 

‘Fine.’ Draco said, still irritated, ‘I believe we are done anyway —— Congratulate on tying the knot, Weasley, though I’m sure Granger could do better. You are one lucky bastard.’ 

‘That I am.’ Weasley smiled, and sticked out his hand, ‘It’s been a pleasure?’ 

‘In whatever twisted concept you have.’ Draco sneered, but he shook Weasley’s hand nonetheless. 

It felt weirdly nice. 

——

The following month was busy like hell, Draco could barely make time to see the man, and the man was indeed hard to reach, and had to decline a few times. Draco knew there were other Doms and they could also wear Potter’s glamour, but he didn’t want them. He wasn’t spending nearly enough time with the man as he would have liked, but he couldn’t exactly stay with the man every night. These thoughts worried him, but there’s already too much on his plate so he easily excused himself and shoved all that to some corner of his mind. In addition to all the events Draco’s planning, something always go wrong with the Yule Ball. Draco blame Potter for that. The Ministry got so paranoid that Draco had to examine details as minuscule as floor wax by himself for Merlin’s sake. 

If Potter was so terrified to attend the Yule Ball, maybe he should just not come at all. Like the nine years before when Draco was not the planner. 

Draco didn’t want him to come. 

What the man said lingered in his mind. No matter how many times he told himself it would be a bad idea to face Potter, he just couldn’t squash the little buzzing in his heart. He ended up picking out a way too conspicuous ice blue to snow white gradual change tux with crystals and pearls sewed on with silver thread decorating the heavy embroidery of thorns and roses. It was a beautiful piece, complimented his eyes and hair perfectly. He would look like some kind of prince or something in the golden and silver themed ball he planned. 

He wanted the day to come so he could be done with it, but when it finally came, he almost regretted.

The event was held on December 19th, the last Friday before Christmas holiday. Guess even politicians didn’t want to spend Christmas away from their family. Draco was standing on the second floor of the ballroom, right above the entrance, when there were blinding wand-lights and Potter’s presence was announced. He stood there with champagne in one hand, watching with boredom as the entire room went quiet and looked to the entrance at the announcement. He could understand now. How all this didn’t mean anything to Potter, how the flattery words, courteous smiles and spot light were just white noises, fake masks and unwanted attention. 

The crowd covertly moved to Potter’s direction, hoping to shower him with whatever they want to force on him and get a piece of him in return.

It was then Draco saw him. 

He walked down the stairs, wearing a black robe with golden embroidery of antlers and lilies around the collar and cuffs and down his back, it was the same shade of his hair, and showed off his physique perfectly. Despite the robe being high-end and rather eye-catching to the point of dramatic, Potter managed to look modest and graceful. 

He showed up alone, which was rare for the crowd tonight but not surprising for him. It was public knowledge that he broke up with Ginevra Weasley years ago, not long before he dropped out of Auror training. It wasn’t an ugly break up, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t get over her or anything, but he never engaged in any serious relationship since. At least none the press know of. He usually just took Granger with him when the event requires company, and use her as human shield against social conversations. Today he wasn’t forced to invite a plus one. Draco made sure of that.

Standing there, Draco was lost in a moment of flashback. 

He remembered standing above the crowd in fourth-year, watching as Potter walked onto the dance floor awkwardly, so uncomfortable that even with that Gryffindor bravery of his, he looked like he would bolt at any second. He remembered having a laugh at Potter’s uneasiness and clumsiness, but also the fascination at his weird gentleman manner, and the suffocating feeling he had when he saw the sheer appreciation in Potter’s eyes when he looked at Chou Chang turned to cold fire when Potter saw him. 

Potter always had that power over him. He was always afraid of Potter. He was always obsessed with Potter. He never figured out why. 

And that’s when, as if felt his gaze, Potter turned and looked up. 

Of all the lights and jewelleries in the room, Potter’s emerald eyes stood out to him. They were such a vivid, vibrant green that made him remember how it was the colour of life, and there were lights in them that would shame the stars. For a second, everything of his world grows from those eyes, and the whole galaxy, the whole universe he was in was in those eyes. There were no other light, no other meanings or mysteries of life.

Then the corner of Potter’s lips curled up to an ambiguous angle, so slight Draco couldn’t tell if it was a smile, let alone if it was for him.

But Draco’s heart stopped, then it was thudding so loud that it was the only thing he could hear.

It was at that moment he finally understood, why there were years of torture and hatred and everything, and what was that burning in him, threatening to swallow his being and burst out of him as if the Big Bang that began the universe.

That he was hopelessly in love, with the man no other than Harry Potter. 

——

Part of being an adult meant there could be a tsunami happening within you, destroying your inner world, and you would still look calm as if nothing was happening. And a Malfoy would say proudly that no one could best them at keeping up a mask. 

Draco avoided Potter for the rest of the night. 

Frankly it wasn’t a hard thing to do. When Potter wasn’t surrounded by people he clearly didn’t want to talk with, he was devoted to avoid everyone. And Draco got the feeling that he was deliberately avoiding Draco too, making sure he was never too close to Draco so they had to greet. Not really a surprise. Which further falsified the man’s suggestion of apologising to Potter directly. 

So Draco busied himself with socialising with the crowd. The position of the Yule Ball planner was hard-earned, and he intended to make it worthwhile. 

And he needed something else to concentrate on.

He should check on Elise. They separated at some point and he hadn’t seen her for a while. She was wearing a bare back blue dress today, beautiful and elegant as a blue rose, and should be easy to spot. Part of her job was to socialise with the females attending the Yule Ball, and Draco had specifically told her she didn’t need to talk to any male she didn’t want to talk to from day one. 

So that Mr. Greasily-Finger there was not welcomed. 

Draco recognised that rat-eyed man as Bard Keepin, only son of the Keepin family. The man had a notorious reputation as a misogynistic womanizer, committed quite a few shady acts and hid behind the prestigious family name, exactly like his father. If it wasn’t for his mother, Mrs. Keepin’s hard work recent years since her husband passed away, the Keepin family wouldn’t have its status today. The old lady however, was too spoiling when it comes to her only child. 

Draco made his way to Elise’s side a bit forcefully, and tried the polite way first: ‘Mr. Keepin. I believe your wife is looking for you.’ 

‘Oh I’m sure it’s nothing important.’ Keepin said with a sly smile that supposed to reach some kind of understanding with Draco, ‘I just have to borrow this lovely assistant of yours for a dance. I hear she plans all kinds of parties. The Keepin family could really use your services.’ 

Draco narrowed his eyes. The man was unhealthily thin, perhaps spending his life chasing sensual pleasures had sucked him dry, and that sandy hair of his made him seem pale like straw paper. He really couldn’t pull off that black and white vertical striped robe. Maybe he should try the lateral ones. 

‘Mr. Keepin.’ He said slowly, ‘I need my assistant. Above all, she is my assistant.’

This would be his last warning. 

‘Possessive of your toys Mr. Malfoy?’ The man laughed disgustingly. 

‘Keepin.’ Draco pulled Elise to his side, let the name rolled out as if it didn’t worth garbage, his eyes expressing the full extent of his disdain, ‘I kindly suggest you think about which part of your tongue and how many fingers or perhaps hands do you consider redundant before your next word or move.’ 

Oh he was so good at this. 

Keepin practically went purple at that, but he wasn’t intimidated: ‘You wouldn’t dare. The Malfoy name may still mean something, but don’t forget you are just a filthy little death eater. You are walking on very thin ice here. One misconduct and it’s life in Azkaban for you.’ 

‘Try me.’ Draco said coldly, ‘I’ll gladly hex your balls off and make the world a better place.’ 

‘Mr. Malfoy.’ 

A familiar voice called, and Draco went stiff immediately. 

How much did Potter hear? Did he know what was going on? Or did he mistaken Draco as someone who threatens bodily harm because he was just a degraded person? 

Before he could stop himself, Draco looked up and saw Potter’s smiling emerald eyes, breathtaking at such proximity. 

‘I just came to thank you for such a great event. I have to say, the treacle tart at the buffet was the best I’ve ever had since Hogwarts.’ 

Draco was studying Potter’s every micro-expression carefully, and Potter seemed sincere. 

‘Yes.’ Draco said cautiously, ‘I have been hiring Grinchy, the chef from Hogwarts, after your lovely friend Granger pushed through that wage bill for house elves. He has agreed to work with me on a few occasions during the holidays. But I have to tell you, that’s one grumpy elf, and he costs a fortune.’ 

Potter laughed a little, then asked: ‘Did I interrupt your conversation on… something about castration?’ 

‘Yes.’ Draco spared a condescending glance at Keepin, ‘That of pigs.’ 

Keepin turned green and fled away. 

And Potter laughed. It was the first time of the night Draco saw him relaxed and truly enjoying himself. All he could do was pretend he wasn’t nervous as hell, as he was facing Potter for the first time in ten years, and since he realised he was in love with him. While he was pretty sure Potter hated him, Potter was now laughing at a prank they pulled together.

Elise, the annoyingly smart witch, thanked Potter and excused herself to reapply her makeup. Potter just nodded and sent her off with a raise of his glass. A glass of Apple juice pretending to be Firewhiskey, Draco noticed.

Somehow, Potter wasn’t leaving. Draco desperately needed an excuse to escape, but he couldn’t exactly say he was going to check on Elise in the lady’s room. So maybe say something, and he will go away. 

‘I’m glad you like the treacle tart.’ Draco said the first thing that came to his mind. Probably the stupidest thing in his life. It might just be Potter’s excuse, but treacle tart was Potter’s favourite dessert, everyone knew that. Thinking about it, maybe he subconsciously hired Grinchy specially for Potter. 

‘Yes. It brought back some good memories.’ Potter looked at him, ‘It must not have been easy for you.’

‘Not really. Grinchy…’

‘Not that.’ Potter said calmly, ‘Help someone.’ 

‘Oh great.’ Draco could feel his rage building up. So he was a despicable sorry excuse of a human being. He fucking couldn’t handle something so great as saving a damsel in distress. No. That would be the job of the almighty Harry Potter. Poor Draco Malfoy. He couldn’t even save his own assistant without help from the great Harry Potter. Draco felt his throat tighten and he couldn’t say a single word. 

Because that’s how the man he love saw him.

But Potter just smiled: ‘But you didn’t hesitate. Didn’t stop to think about what the name Keepin represented, didn’t stop at his lucrative offer or his threat.’ 

‘Oh please, I’m rather pricy. Mrs. Keepin would never give him that kind of gold to throw around. And however much influence she has of the judicial system, he could hardly use it for personal vendetta.’ Draco could feel his fingers trembling, so he hid them under the table, and he managed to keep his expression wry. 

‘All I’m saying, is you seem like a changed man, Malfoy.’ Potter wasn’t affected by the appearance Draco put on, as if those emerald eyes could easily see through him, ‘You didn’t base your decision on profit, or the preservation of yourself. It would take a remarkably brave man to risk themselves for others.’ 

‘So what you are saying, is that I’m practically Gryffindor now?’ Draco sneered, ‘That’s hardly a compliment.’ 

But his earlier rage was gone. He felt like a balloon pumped full of air, expecting to explode, but instead, he was floating, so happily floating that he was head over heels. 

‘Well,’ Potter shrugged, ‘It is.’ 

‘You gave me too much credit. It was a calculated decision.’ Draco leered at Potter, his rosy lips curled up to a playful smile, ‘Sorry to burst your little bubble but I’m still a Slytherin.’ 

‘It’s what you did.’ Potter insisted placidly. 

There was a suspicious blush on Potter’s cheeks that couldn’t be explained away by the fake ‘Whiskey’ he was holding. Did he just unconsciously flirted with Potter? Merlin no. He needed to stop himself. 

Draco bit down on his lip, not noticing Potter stared a moment too long at that. 

They fell silent and stood like that for a while, then Potter casted a wandless Tempus ——fucking show off, if anyone ever asked, Draco would deny he thought that was sexy —— and said: ‘It’s almost midnight. I’m afraid I’ll have to make my exit. The Aurors are waiting for me.’ 

Draco just nodded. 

And Potter left, and Draco watched. He was about to make a turn at the hallway, and he would be gone. 

Not wanting to watch him leave, Draco looked down at the table. Something moved and caught his eye. 

There was something golden left behind Potter’s wine glass. 

Draco’s heart leapt, he tilted his head slowly and saw it was Potter’s cufflink, an exquisite golden snitch with his initials ‘H•P’ engraved on it. Being left behind, the cufflink was flapping its wings anxiously, knocking into the wine glass, making little ringing sounds. 

Draco hesitated for a second, then grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, downed it in one go then grabbed the cufflink and chased after Potter. He couldn’t remember if he ran, but he was breathless when he turned the corner and saw Potter was just a few steps in front of him. 

‘Potter!’ He called out, and Potter stopped. He turned around to face Draco, but was cautious not to make any other move to spook Draco. 

It was now, or never. 

He could tell him now, or he may never have the chance and heart to do it again. 

‘I…’ Draco said , ‘I am sorry.’ 

Potter had a mild, mutual expression on his face: ‘For what?’ 

‘For all the things I did that was wrong. For all the things I should apologise for and didn’t.’ Draco said, and once he started, the words just came out on themselves, ‘For all the reasons in the world, what I did was wrong. I know my apology was too late, I know it can’t change the past, probably can’t make up anything for you, can’t even consolidate you, but I want you to know that I’m sorry, I’m truly, sincerely sorry.’ 

He was on the verge of tears when he finished. 

Potter listened to his words quietly and carefully, and when Draco finished, he walked back up to Draco, and stretched out his hand. 

For a moment, Draco didn’t understand. 

Potter leaned in and said with a smile: ‘I believe you know what sort of friends to make?’ 

Draco shut his eyes for a second, and took a deep breath. Something he smelled felt familiar among the cheery holiday scent of cedar, eggnog and bakeries, and it comforted him. He shakily reached out his hand, and had to bite down on his lip when Potter took his hand firmly in his warm hand. 

‘Merry Christmas, Malfoy.’ Potter smiled again, and turned to leave, ‘Until next time.’

Draco didn’t have the heart to watch him leave, so he kept his eyes on the hand Potter just held. 

It was then that he realised the excuse he used to himself —— the golden snitch cufflink was still clenched tight in his left hand, imprinting its shape onto Draco’s palm.

Draco wanted to stop Potter again, but suddenly all the clocks of the finca went off as the midnight had arrived, some pealing solemnly, some ringing silvery, and others had their unique sounds or melodies, all chiming together to be a randomly beautiful symphony, and gasps and laughters were flooding in from the ballroom. There was no way Draco could be heard. 

Something cool sprinkled on him. Draco looked up, and a tender branch of mistletoe was growing from the ceiling, its leaves stretching proudly, red fruit dangling, sprinkling golden dusts onto Draco’s hair. 

It was his design and he knew it by heart. He had them randomly placed on the ceiling of the entire finca, to be a pleasant surprise at midnight. 

He just kept his eyes on it, trying his best to keep his tears at bay. 

This could be the best day of his life, his wish for years finally came true, he was now friend of Harry Potter. 

But all he could hear right now, in all the chaos and happiness, was that clear sound of breaking from his chest. 

It was his heart.


	10. Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco got drunk, sobered up, animalised and was determined to take 1000 strikes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The number may be frightening but most were delivered lightly.  
> Many thanks to Mika Toshino for proofreading for me. 
> 
> Happy New Year! ٩(˃̶͈̀௰˂̶͈́)و

Draco had gotten so drunk that he was surprised he hadn’t splinched himself while apparating and had ended up two blocks away from his intended destination as well as dangerously close to a drain, but he apparated again anyway.

He knew what he was doing, just not why he was doing it, and frankly, he thought what he was doing was preposterous, because he was standing outside room 6 of ‘Fantasy’ and banging at the door.

He didn’t have the current password, and the man was apparently not inside. Understandable, as it was again theme night. But somehow, he couldn’t stop. He would have nothing to do and would be forced to deal with his broken heart.

Finally, the lock clicked, not to room 6, but room 7.

Draco leaned on the door, looked over and saw that annoying face of Potter’s again; only this time, it was different. The Potter from room 7 looked very concerned, and somehow that expression looked so strange on Potter’s face.

‘Are you alright?’ The fake Potter from room 7 asked.

‘Yes.’ Draco said, ‘I just need to…’

He didn’t really know what he needed, but he had to think of something. Getting through this door seemed like the logical first step for whatever reason.

‘I just need to get inside. Can you let me in?’

‘No, sorry. I can’t do anything to another Dom’s room.’ The fake Potter said apologetically, ‘Um… But I think I can try to contact him for you. Would you… would you like to wait in my room before he comes? I can fix you hot cocoa or something.’

Draco was parched, but he refused: ‘No. I’m good here.’

The fake Potter went away. Draco slipped to the floor and ran his hand over his face. He felt weird talking to the fake Potter from room 7. Something just didn’t sit right.

Before he could figure out what, the fake Potter was back, he had a mug of hot cocoa in his hands despite Draco’s refusal. Apparently, all Dom’s were mind readers. Even the ones that weren’t authentic enough.

‘Your Dom should be here shortly.’ The fake Potter said, half kneeling by Draco’s side, ‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’

Draco took a few gulps of the coco and shook his head. He was too drunk to make small talk right now. Just closed his eyes and rested his head on the door so he wouldn’t have to see fake Potter’s face.

It wasn’t long before he heard the familiar voice speaking calmly: ‘Thank you. I’ll take it from here.’

Draco opened his eyes, and his Potter was there. Although what he had on were a pair of black slacks and a hideous red sweater with patterns of reindeers and slides and Christmas trees and other things Christmas. Somehow, he still pulled it off, with that and the dorky glasses, he looked nothing like the calm and ruthless Dom he was, but a nice family man that bakes delicious cookies and tells bedtime stories. He was even barefooted.

Draco laughed at that: ‘What, the clock strikes midnight, and you go back to being Cinderella now?’

Potter stopped.

Right. Draco pressed the heel of his hand to his throbbing temple. He was confused. That one at the Yule Ball was the real Potter. This one right here was his Potter.

‘Sorry. I’m drunk. Don’t know what I was thinking.’ Draco tried to sit up, ‘But seriously, what could you be doing wearing that, holding a Weasley’s Christmas theme night?’

‘…Something like that.’ Potter said, walking up to Draco again, and Draco opened his arms unabashedly, urging Potter to pick him up.

Potter wasn’t offended, just picked him up as he wished and carried him through the door that appeared on the wall, and they were in the dorm room again. He gently let Draco down on the bed and turned to leave.

Draco caught his wrist instinctively, and Potter’s hand was over the back of his hand: ‘I’m just going to find you a sobering potion.’

‘Don’t want it.’ Draco muttered, pulling the man back on him, not caring the crystals on his tux were getting caught in that hideous sweater, maybe he would lose a few, maybe he would get a lot of yellow, red, brown and green fibers in his tux tomorrow morning. The sweater was chafing his face, but he just nudged himself deeper into Potter’s embrace.

‘Something happened?’ Potter asked quietly, supporting the weight of himself and most of Draco with one hand, and held Draco close with the other.

‘Yeah something happened.’ Draco said with smothered voice, ‘I took your brilliant advice and went to apologise to Potter.’

Potter waited, and when Draco didn’t continue, he asked: ‘And?’

‘We are fucking friends now.’

‘Sounds like it went well.’ Potter smiled, giving up on getting that sobering potion, just squeezing onto the bed to hold Draco better.

‘No, it didn’t.’ Draco said.

Potter looked confused. Draco turned over, kept his eyes fixated on the ceiling, just staring so hopefully he wouldn’t cry, and couldn’t find it in himself to say anything else about it.

Draco was still wearing that tux, but his hair and clothes were disheveled. Most of the glamour, makeups and hair wax he applied earlier faded, but it was as if the true beauty had just started to come out from underneath the perfect fake mask. Draco always had a low tolerance for alcohol, and he drunk more than enough today, so half of his body was flushed pink, his response was slower than usual, movements trembling and lazy as if his bones had melted some. Somehow, the way he moved, the tears in his eyes glistened, the tender pink bloomed over his alabaster skin, was enchanting. Not to mention he looked devastated, on the verge of crying, that way he always struggled to hold himself together just made it impossible for the man to look away, watching so closely that as if everything were happening in slow motions.

‘Would it be… would it be too unreasonable to ask you to do a scene right now?’ Draco ran his hand through his hair a bit harshly.

‘Why?’ Potter asked quietly.

Draco couldn’t answer. He just reached out and held Potter’s face in his other hand and pulled Potter into his mind. When one was really good at Occlumency, they could do that. Draco knew the magical theory, just never did it before. Being drunk and mentally distracted right now, he had a few flashbacks of Potter at fourth-year Yule Ball and at tonight’s Yule Ball before he could find the right memory.

It wasn’t much really, just about the badges he made in fourth year.

Back then, it was just for fun. Who the fuck would have known Tom Riddle was really going to rise from the dead and came back full-blown psychotic? Despite everything father said, part of him didn’t care about anything political, and somehow, he always thought Potter would squash all conspiracy of Voldemort like he had been doing for years. He was used to running his mouth to push Potter’s buttons, not caring that Potter always wins in the end. Part of him even liked that Potter always bested him, and the other part, of course, was forever defiant.

That was the last year they were just kids, the greatest worries of their lives were grades and whether their crush would go to the Yule Ball with them. Debatable for Potter, that is. He always had a few life-threatening moments added to those ordinary things, but by this point, it had become commonplace, just another day for him.

The badges, yes. They were really just another thing that he had come up with to push Potter’s buttons. Potter had begun paying attention to Cho Chang, by then most of Draco’s pranks couldn’t even make Potter blink anymore, and Draco desperately wanted his attention back. He imagined Potter walking down the aisle, seeing those badges everywhere, and all he could think about was Draco.

He climbed onto that tree and waited ten full minutes just for Potter to pass for reasons he didn’t understand.

The things he showed Potter were a little messy, and he couldn’t control his emotions very well, his desperation and sadness were seeping through his mental walls that some of the images he showed Potter were grey or blue. But Potter got the general idea, falling silent for a moment before he chuckled: ‘You really climbed onto the tree just…’

‘Oh, shut up.’ Draco pushed Potter.

Despite his teasing, Potter was cautious, he combed his fingers through Draco’s hair in soothing motions, and his eyes were soft: ‘What do you want me to do about this?’

‘What you think I deserve.’ Draco replied.

‘I actually thought about it. You know. Because it was very public. Leather paddle? One strike for each badge.’

‘Great.’ Draco snorted a laugh, ‘I made a thousand badges, one for each student at Hogwarts, few extra souvenirs. Drained up my allowance. Didn’t think it was possible.’

Potter sat up: ‘A thou… Really? Malfoy?’

Then he shook his head: ‘You won’t be able to take it.’

‘Tie me up. Make me take it.’

‘Still, no. And you are drunk. You are not in the state to give consent to anything.’

‘Real gentleman.’ Draco said sarcastically, ‘Then get me that sobering potion. Will you do it if I consent then?’

Potter was about to refuse, but Draco interrupted him: ‘Please?’

He tried not to sound like he was about to cry, but he doubted he was successful. He just wanted to stop thinking. Stop having to decide his next move, his next word, his next step, because he felt he was drowning in despair, no matter what he did, there was just no way out of this.

The man hesitated, and finally sighed, he leaned down and was about to kiss Draco’s forehead, but remembered Draco had safeworded it last time, so he settled with placing his cheek against Draco’s forehead and stroked Draco’s hair a few times before he left: ‘You need that sobering potion regardless.’

Sobering potions weren’t magical cures —— ironic huh? —— just shortens the process of sobering, and Draco felt as if all his internal organs were blended together before they were reborn into place. When the effect faded, Draco was thirsty as hell, and Potter handed him the cup of water he had ready.

‘Better?’ Potter asked.

Draco didn’t answer for a second. Part of him also hoped that urge would subside when he was no longer drunk. But the experiences he had experienced with the man changed him. He spent his childhood terrified of the pain that came along with violence, never could he imagined that he would become so addicted to it, he just wanted the bliss where he can be sure what he was doing was right, can have someone tell him when he was wrong, he wanted to be lost in the pleasure of the pain, to be able to satisfy Potter and have Potter care for him.

Even none of those were real.

He looked up at Potter, and Potter understood. He got up, took off everything he was wearing and changed to what he was wearing when Draco jumped him at the tree, then offered a hand to pull Draco up off the bed, and led Draco back to the playroom: ‘If you absolutely have to do this, then we’ll do it my way —— take off your clothes.’

‘What do you mean by “your way”?’

Draco couldn’t care less about the ruined tux now stripping it off as fast as he could. He asked, but Potter answered with pulling out his wand, pointing it at him and cast: ‘ _Ferretfuro_.’

Something tickled Draco, he reached for it instinctively, and realised he had ears and tail now, he panicked a little and felt as his newly grown round ears flapped. Potter smiled a dark smile and pulled him in front of a full-length mirror, holding his jaw to make him look into it, with every word, his pearly white sharp canine tooth scraped over Draco’s ear: ‘Beautiful, isn’t it? Those are the ears and tail of a ferret, not just decorative; they are yours. Took me quite a while to perfect the spell from a variation of Animagus spell. You can use them the same way you use your arms and legs; it will get better with practice of course, and you will feel them when I touch them.’

He said, running his other hand through the soft, thick fur on Draco’s tail —— Merlin he had a tail now, flawlessly snowy white, not a single miscellaneous hair —— and it sent sparks right up his spine, making him moan. Draco could swear that tail was more sensitive than his cock.

‘It was a pet project of mine. My friend thought I was crazy, researching and creating such a spell with everything else that’s happening. But I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t get that image out of my head.’ Potter ran his fingers through Draco’s hair, massaging the extra pair of furry ears, ‘You, with these perfectly white ears and tails, would be my perfect pet.’

Draco could hardly focus on anything else now, just shivering as the strange pleasure made him weak at the knees and teary in the eyes.

Potter put the collar he used on Draco the night he stayed over around his neck and pulled him to a punishment bench.

‘One thousand strikes is going to be a challenge, both for you and me.’ Potter probably picked up on his uneasiness, so instead of tying Draco up with a swish of his wand, he cuffed Draco’s wrists, forearms, waist, knees and ankles with restraints from the same set of Draco’s collar by hand, and stroked Draco’s furry ears, ‘The less you move, the better chance I hit where I intend to as the numbers grow, the easier it would be for me, so I’m tying you up.’

He hesitated for a second, and asked quietly: ‘You sure about this? For you, after some point, It will be pure pain.’

Draco didn’t say anything, so Potter stroked his ears and hair for long moments before Draco finally said, shakily: ‘Yes, sir.’

Potter stroked Draco’s cheek and said: ‘I won’t be fastidious on your other behaviours because the goal is one thousand strikes, and it will be difficult for you to remember and follow my rules, so today I will be merciful. Even if you forget, no more punishment will be added. But I still expect you to respect me and do your best.’

Draco nodded: ‘Yes, sir. I will respect you and try to do my best.’

‘Good.’ Potter gently pushed Draco’s hair behind his ear, ‘What’s your safe word?’

‘James, sir.’ Draco looked directly at Potter’s eyes, ‘And I will use it wisely as I promised.’

‘Very well.’ Potter stood back and cast a spell, with the number ‘1000’ appeared in front of Draco’s eyes. He struck once so the number would turn to ‘999’ to show Draco that it was a count down, ‘Raise your tail, and it will begin.’

It was weird, having a tail. Trying to use it was like a newborn ferret figuring out what its tail was. Draco’s clumsy attempts at using his tail amused Potter greatly, Potter chuckled and disrupted Draco’s attempts a few times by stroking his tail, Draco moaned and his tail involuntarily wrapped around Potter’s wrist.

Potter pulled at Draco’s tail, there was little room for Draco to move, he raised his arse higher, but the pulling still made the root of the tail burn hot, and revealed Draco’s pink arsehole. Even cuter now in contrast with the snow-white furry tail.

Potter squeezed Draco’s tail, and Draco melted, when Potter started paddling him lightly, it didn’t feel like punishment, just aroused him even more.

Draco could tell Potter was having more fun than ever. Between the intervals of paddling, Potter fondled his bushy tail, stroking and pulling at Draco’s arsehole, and Draco was burning with desire within the first few hundred strikes. All the pain was more than pleasant, seeming as if to only to fuel the fire, Potter had to lock his magic around Draco’s cock so he wouldn’t cum. Draco could hear himself moaning like a bitch in heat, the sound was so lewd that he had never thought himself capable of making, let alone while being spanked.

‘Such a slut, Malfoy.’ Potter chuckled darkly, stroking Draco’s furry ears, massaging them, making him whimper, then ran his hand over Draco’s prettily red and hot arse.

Something else was different. Draco hardly ever hears Potter use foul language, and he soon realised Potter probably never had the chance to do what he was doing now. To watch Draco willingly push his limits, taking the punishment he might not be able to endure, was just the beginning. People are complicated, and Potter wasn’t just a sadist, Draco could feel something in Potter’s personality contradicted his identity as a Dom, and it couldn’t be satisfied with the caretaking after the act. It always impeded him from getting what the monster inside him wanted, stopped him from delivering pain and pleasure as he truly wishes. By asking for one thousand strikes, Draco had given him a chance he would never have given himself, to unleash the monster. Also, Potter liked to be challenged, right now Draco was presenting him with a really difficult one: to make such a severe punishment endurable, even enjoyable.

As the number went down, the pain was starting to overcome the pleasure. By then, Draco’s arse's colour was turning from glowing bright red to a matte, deeper red. The leather paddle had a similar bite as the belt, and it was getting harder for Draco to stay still, as he rattled the restraints violently, crying out in pain, his cock softening.

Potter stopped, hydrated Draco, went to the toy shelf and picked out a glass jar with something clear and gelatinous inside. Slicked up his fingers, Potter pushed two into Draco’s arsehole, making Draco groan at arousal and the tingling pain of sudden stretching. He murmured a spell, and that jelly-like toy began forcing its way into Draco. It was a little chilly, but it quickly found Draco’s prostate and wrapped itself around it, when Potter struck again, it vibrated and squeezed Draco’s prostate, counteracting the pain, making Draco hard again.

But it could only serve as a distraction at best, Draco was hard and desperate for release, but just like Potter said, the spanking was pure agonizing pain right now. Draco was shaking involuntarily, his muscles spasming, unable to stop sobbing even after Potter stopped again, kneeled in front of him and held his face, wiping away his tears and stroking his ears and hair: ‘It’s okay… we can stop now.’

But Draco looked up at the countdown, and there were still more than a hundred strikes.

Despite his distressed state and Potter’s effort at concealing his emotions, Draco knew Potter was forcing himself to stop, his expression similar to someone who was forced to stop before he could orgasm, just better controlled.

‘No.’ Draco said, his voice broken and shaking, he blinked, and a tear fell from the tip of his long eyelashes to the back of Potter’s hand, ‘Finish it.’

Potter was silent. But he couldn’t refuse immediately.

‘Please.’ Draco begged, looking up at Potter, his silver eyes vulnerable and pleading, tears filled to the brim and tainting his flushed face, as if dews on roses, ‘I want to take it —— I want to take it for you.’

He raised his tail and curled it around Potter’s wrist, pulling him shakily, Potter stroked his cheek one more time, holding his face in his hands, repeated Draco’s words as if he needed to do so to understand: ‘You want to take it. For me.’

‘Yes.’ Draco sobbed but kept his eyes locked with Potter’s, hoping Potter could see what he couldn’t say —— his limits were not offended, he wanted to take it because it was the punishment he thought he deserved and because he wanted to please Potter.

Potter held Draco to his shoulder, pressing his cheek to Draco’s furry ear, his lips so close to Draco’s forehead that it could be a kiss, except it wasn’t.

‘Then take it for me.’ Potter said.

Draco’s arse was beginning to show a faint shade of crimson, any wrong move and bruising would be a certainty. Potter stroked the abused flesh for a while, before taking the tail in his hand and struck again.

This time something changed. Each strike felt like the last strike he could take, so painful that he was almost screaming, but as soon as it passed, somehow he felt so much pleasure that he couldn’t stop even though he was in so much pain, just hoping, even begging for the next strike.

There were still twenty more strikes left when Potter released the restraints, taking him in his arms and sat at the couch.

Draco was sobbing and looking at Potter, unintentionally pleading for more, it was like he had an episode of addiction, shaking so hard as he couldn’t stop, couldn’t get enough. Potter just pushed Draco’s hair out of his face, stroked Draco’s back and hair, his voice so soft that it was almost a whisper: ‘That’s all. You can’t have anymore. This is your limit. Anymore you would be hurt.’

Draco was crying and talking nonsense, begging and pleading, so Potter delivered the last twenty strikes to the back of his thighs while holding him close, then he took his cock in his hand, murmured a spell and the toy inside Draco started massaging Draco’s prostate. It didn’t take long before Draco came on Potter’s stomach and collapsed in Potter’s arms.

It took a while before the crazy urge subsided, the desire faded to the background, and Draco could feel his arse was almost too painful for him to endure. Potter was right.

But the pain was pleasant, and he could feel Potter’s satisfaction and affection toward him.

‘I’m proud of you.’ Is what Potter said when he had Draco on his knees, fucked into Draco’s throat and shot down Draco’s throat.

Draco didn’t want to stand up, just held onto Potter’s belt, buried his face in the messy black hair for a while, then started to lick Potter clean.

Potter smiled at that, sat back down and let Draco do it lazily like a cat playing with his milk: ‘How can you be so cute.’

Draco was beyond happy, so he smiled back relaxed and flirtatious.

When Draco finished playing, Potter patted his head, pulled up his zipper and reached to free his belt from Draco’s hand, probably was about to carry Draco to the bathroom. Just to start his usual conversation that pulls Draco out of the sub mindset, he teased lightly: ‘You know, I always thought you had a crush on Cedric in fourth year.’

Something snapped.

Draco didn’t get to enjoy the blissful feeling of post-orgasmic bliss and having served Potter for long. Instead,Potter’s words sent him off a cold cliff, all the wind cold and sharp like blades, cutting him into a million pieces. He held on to Potter’s belt as it was the last straw of his life, his voice broken by sobs but so clear it couldn’t be mistaken.

‘No.’ He said, staring down at the floor, ‘Potter.’

‘Hm?’

Potter didn’t get it. He had that confused look again when Draco told him he and Potter are friends now, but everything wasn’t well.

It was cute. The way his dark eyelashes flickered.

So he told him.

‘I was in love with Potter.’


	11. Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and the man talked about Draco’s feelings a little. Christmas at the manor. Plot.

The man froze.

'I didn't understand… I couldn't understand.' Draco pressed his forehead against the man's, and the man immediately picked him up as Draco's mental wall came crippling down, and all the messy images and emotions poured out like waterfall as the dam collapsed.

Other boys pulled the ponytails of their crush. Draco took it to a whole new level.

He couldn't care less about Diggory. He wasn't even sure if 'Diggory' had one g or two when he was making the badges for Merlin's sake, and he certainly did not go to Diggory and show him what he had done. All he cared about was Potter. He might as well have just printed 'I have the biggest fucking crush in the entire history of Hogwarts on Harry Potter' on the badges. It was so fucking obvious. And he made sure everyone at Hogwarts knew about his grand gesture. He couldn't get anymore public than that.

But he hadn't known, back then all he had known was the education of a proper Malfoy heir. He would be expected to marry a pureblood witch that he wasn't expected to love and produce the next Malfoy heir. Potter was the same sex as he was, a halfblood, and made it clear he cared more about a stray cat than he cared about Draco.

At some point, he was determined to blind himself from the truth to avoid the heartbreak.

And even if he had known, he wouldn't have known how to love someone, to treat them the way they deserved, let alone how to have been a person who would deserve and have won Potter's attention, respect, and heart.

He hadn't then, and he couldn't now.

And he never will.

Self-hatred and desperation broke free from his mental walls, swallowing Draco as if flood water, putting him in so much pain as he felt he was deep underwater now, unable to breathe and crushed by the water pressure, he held the man's face in his hands, his tears fell and tainted it —— that beautiful face of Potter's, it was so close yet so far away. The emerald eyes that burned with cold fire of the fourth year Potter and those of the patient and understanding Potter at the Yule Ball merge together and were the colour of the flood that was ravaging his mental world.

He couldn't remember how long he cried, but the man was more than patient, and extremely quiet, not saying anything until Draco’s crying subsided.

‘I took it a little too far. If you want to be able to sleep tonight and walk tomorrow —— it’s six o’clock now so maybe sleep this morning and walk this afternoon, I need to heal you a little.’ When the man spoke, it was about something unrelated, and as Draco didn’t protest, he held Draco close and chanted a spell, something ancient and powerful, all that’s left behind was the most pleasant amount of reminder for Draco.

‘Let’s clean you up.’ He said lightly, picking Draco up and walking to the bathroom.

‘I feel so stupid.’ With his mental walls slowly fitting back into place and the sub mindset gone, Draco was gradually coming back to himself now. He buried his face in the man’s chest, sort of hoping he could hide there forever. ‘It was so obvious. Everyone at the school… I shouldn’t bother you with this. I need to stop talking now. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.’

They both knew it was just what happens after an intense scene, and Draco was relieved as the man was more than understanding.

‘Don’t be.’ The man’s voice still light, then he smiled a sarcastic bittersweet smile, ‘At least one other person was no smarter than you were. I’m pretty sure _Potter_ didn’t know.’

‘And I would like to keep it that way.’ Draco tried to pretend everything was fine by taking on a joking tone, ‘I don’t want to seem pushy. We have just barely became friends. I can’t just go and tell him “hey, I was crazy in love with you back in school, you know, when I was bullying you. And by the way, that’s why I bullied you”.’

The man wanted to say something, but eventually didn’t. And Draco couldn’t bear the silence right now, so he kept talking: ‘Besides, I had a crush on him. I’m not even sure if I still do.’

This time, the man asked: ‘Why?’

‘Please.’ Draco said sourly, ‘It’s been almost ten years since I last saw him. I hardly knew who he was back then, let alone who he has become. At least back in Hogwarts, I got to see him everyday. I can’t just say I love him when I don’t know him anymore.’

‘You talked with him last night.’ The man said, starting to shower Draco, ‘What do you think?’

‘I don’t know. We didn’t talk much.’

The man didn’t say anything, just looked at Draco, and Draco looked away. It was so hard lying to the man.

Draco was exhausted by now, so the man showered him and addressed his wounds as quickly as possible, put the collar on Draco and settled Draco in the bed. Draco wasn’t sure how he arranged it, but he then went to get breakfast for Draco. After Draco filled himself with French toast, the man helped him brush his teeth, so Draco didn’t need to get out of the bed, then got on the bed and held Draco close, gently playing with Draco’s furry ear.

Draco felt like he never wanted to leave the bed again. He was so tired that he could fell asleep at any moment, but he didn’t want to. He was torn between the desperation that was still haunting him, threatening to drown him, and the safety of being in the man’s arms.

The man must be tired too, as he hasn’t slept all night, but he told Draco he had something else he needed to take care of, though he would stay till Draco fell asleep. In the darkness of the night, his emerald eyes were glinting softly, and all he was looking at was Draco.

And Draco wanted to tell him.

‘I feel like… I understand him better than before how he sees the world. And how a lot of things I thought about him was wrong. He was still the great man he always was. Better really, he was… I can’t describe it. I can’t imagine how he could forgive me, not to mention befriend me.’ Draco said, then he finally gave up, ‘Fine. If I wasn’t still in love with him, I would have a new crush on him last night. Satisfied? I’m trying to get over him. You were supposed to help me do that.’

The man was amused, and something else. Draco couldn’t tell.

‘And why is that?’

‘Because I pay you a lot.’ Draco was irritated.

But he knew that wasn’t the real reason. Somehow, the man seemed disappointed, his eyelashes fell, flickering a little, like a child trying not to show his disappointment when he realised he wouldn’t be getting any Christmas presents. Which probably happened a lot, Draco could tell.

Fine. Let it be.

‘Because I like you better, okay?’ Draco huffed, ‘I still hardly know Potter, and I don’t think he knows or cares anything about me. It’s just a stupid crush. I don’t care if Potter was the sun that everybody circles around and depends on, and yes I know I hardly know you too, but I like you better. Because… I don’t know. I just like you better.’

With that, the man broke into a big smile.

Draco felt his heart puffing up like a furry light bubble at that, the soothing feeling spreading to his entire body, even to the end of his hair. He was happy before he fell asleep.

——

Christmas eve of the Malfoy Manor was rather bleak for the recent years.

Mother tried her best to redecorate the manor, but it was too big a house for only three people who had very little to talk about. To avoid conflict, Draco had got into the tradition of staying only for dinner and breakfast. He would have a quick dinner, retire to his room, and leave right after breakfast.

Nevertheless, it was the only time of the year that he regularly spent at the manor. Ever since the war, the rift that divided the Malfoy father and son grew silently. Lucius still held on to his bloodism and opportunistic beliefs, while Draco, no longer ignorant and powerless, refused to walk the path Lucius demanded. Mother still exchanged owl with Draco, while he and his father barely had any communication. Minimal time spent with father seemed to have compelled father to compress everything he wanted to say to Draco and spill them out all at once. During dinner, father commented on his work, some old pureblood families' recent activities, and all things political. Draco listened halfheartedly and threw in a few agreements here and there. He had given up meaningful communication with father a long time ago. Father never wanted to consider his opinion, just wanted him to comply with everything he demanded. Draco had his phase arguing passionately with father about almost everything, but that just broke mother’s heart. At some point, Draco just accepted the fact that father would never change. Aside from everything, he still couldn’t stop loving father, so he decided he would stop fighting with father, stop forcing father to see the truth he didn’t want to see, as a way of protection. He would still do everything his way; he just wasn’t going to tell father and justify that to father anymore. His less than hostile attitude encouraged father, and he began lecturing Draco on how he had already married mother and ‘produced an heir’ at his age.

Draco lost all his appetite and lowered his fork at that.

Mother picked up on it, and as always, mediated their difference, started talking about her new recipe of soufflé, and the Malfoy father and son both complimented that. There was only one thing left that they shared: they both loved Narcissa Malfoy dearly, which would never change. It was the only reason they could still sit at the same table.

Having not eaten much dinner, Draco woke up early the next morning, he lied in bed for a while, and decided to go down to the Christmas tree for the presents. Of course, things couldn’t go back to the way it was. He remembered waking up full of joy and excitement, running downstairs to his mountain of gifts. He wasn’t exactly the age for Christmas presents anymore, and the few of his friends would send the presents to his apartment, so he was only expecting the one from his parents. And… well. Something else.

When he got to the Christmas tree, mother was already there. She looked up at him, pulled her jasper Persia tippet tighter and smiled at Draco: ‘Draco. Did you sleep well last night?’

There was a while when Draco could hardly fell asleep at the manor, even if he did, he would wake up screaming soon after. Mother was the one who held him and comforted him. After a while, he couldn’t bear her withering away staying up with him every night, so he put up silencing charms. He knew she probably knew he didn’t miraculously suddenly recovered, but she didn’t press him and tried her best not to show her worries. But when he fell asleep last night, he hadn’t even thought of it. Since the man started keeping Draco on the bed with the collar, Draco was sleeping a lot better. Last time Draco woke up to an empty bed again, the man, of course, left a note with a big ‘Sorry’ scribbled on it, but Draco wasn’t satisfied. To retaliate, Draco took one of the man’s silk shirt —— probably one the most expensive shirt the man owned, and has been using it as nightgown since. What can he say? The scent soothed him. And his tux was ruined. No way he would ever wear that again.

‘Yes, mother.’ Draco said, smiling, ‘My sleep is better now.’

‘Oh, good.’ Mother was sincerely happy, but her manners stopped her from showing too much. She lowered her head, ran her hand over the present she had just opened. It was a rosewood box with elegant engravings of narcissus.

Draco recognised that box. Ever since mother helped Potter, Potter had been sending mother Christmas presents. He probably asked aunt Andromeda and learned mother collected porcelain figurines when she was young, and sent her a cute one each year. Part of what attracted Draco back to the manor for Christmas was to see what Potter sent this time. Last year was a squirrel and a nest full of her babies, every once in a while, they would go to sleep together, and the mother squirrel would cover her babies with her bushy tail. Mother really liked that one.

‘What was it this year?’ Draco asked.

A loving smile appeared on mother’s face. She opened the box, and the figurine of a chubby little angel flew out. He had white wings, platinum hair and rosy cheeks. When he saw Draco, he started shooting little golden arrows at Draco with a condescending look on his face, then went and sat on mother’s shoulder like an innocent good boy.

Draco yelped as the golden arrows stung and disappeared, and mother couldn’t suppress her laugh.

_Forgive me, but this reminded me of your son._

The note that came with the present said.

‘That…’ prick! But Draco wouldn’t say that in front of mother.

Right then mother picked up a present with Gryffindor red wrapping and golden bow tie and gave it to Draco: ‘There’s one for you too.’

Draco went still.

Never in a million years would Draco dream of Potter sending him presents. It was a rather small present, size of a dictionary, but holding it in his hands, Draco could feel his heart at his throat.

‘And here’s another one from… James?’ Mother said, ‘I’ve never heard of him. A new friend of yours, Draco?’

Draco’s eyes shot to that Slytherin green present with sliver bow tie in mother’s hands, and snatched it from mother’s hands as fast as it wouldn’t be suspicious. Everything from James felt too intimate for mother to hold.

‘A business associate.’ Draco said.

If mother was suspicious, she let it slide. Just gave Draco the present she and father prepared for him along with a soft smile: ‘Well then, I’ll leave you to your presents.’

Draco nodded his gratitude.

Just to be safe, Draco retreated to his own room and locked the door.

He opened father and mother’s present first, because he had some idea what was in it —— some kind of family heirloom probably. Indeed it was an exquisite silver snake hair ring with emerald eyes and protective charms covertly installed. Draco quite liked the gift. And considering how much the man liked his hair, maybe he should start wearing his hair long.

Then he debated a little between opening Potter’s present first or the man’s present first, eventually decided he should save the best for the last, and opened Potter’s present first.

He wondered for a second what Potter could have sent him, but soon gave up as he really didn’t know Potter that well.

Draco opened the present carefully, didn’t even tear the wrapping paper. Inside was a red leather box with black velvet lining, on it lied a golden pocket watch that shaped like a flat golden snitch, a golden snitch tie pin, and the other golden snitch cufflink.

 _Thought you might want the whole set._ The note said.

Bastard. But Draco almost couldn’t suppress his smile.

Then he looked at the present sent by the man. If he were to take a guess, it would be some kind of toy in the present. It wasn’t a big package. Something like the silver balls? Or maybe a dildo same size of the man’s cock?

But after he carefully opened the wrapping, the present shook and enlarged itself as the shrinking charm was lifted. It was quite a big camphor wood box that Draco recognised as from high-end clothing.

Why would… Oh.

Draco opened the box, and pulled out a breathtakingly beautiful dress. It was made of almost transparent chiffon of the highest order, when Draco lifted the dress, the material fell as if water; the design was halterneck with dropped dress that had silver patterns of peacock feathers sewed with crystals and pearls, towards the back the colour of the pattern darkened and gradually changed to the dazzling peacock green and blue. Aside from the dress, there were also a pair of silver stilettos with peacock feather décor and a corsage made of narcissus, hyacinth, and astilbe.

 _Sorry I ruined your tux._ The note said. _If I ever had the privilege to take you to a prom, this was how I imagined you would wear. Wear it for our next scene._

Draco looked from the note to the dress, couldn’t help but ran his hand over the glimmering material.

He had never thought about crossdressing before, but he knew people weren’t divided by gender to the man, let alone clothes. And beautiful clothes have the appeal beyond the boring division of gender. He wanted to try it, wanted to see the light of admiration in the man’s eyes.

He was really looking forward to seeing the man.

——

Things of course, stubbornly wouldn’t go down the way Draco hoped.

When he got back to his apartment, he found a group of Aurors led by Forgecount trying to open his door.

‘What the fuck are you doing!?’ Draco shouted.

Forgecount just pulled out his wand: ‘Mr. Malfoy. You will need to come with us.’

Draco tightened his jaw.

Ten minutes later, Draco was sitting in an interrogation room with his wand turned in and questioned by Forgecount’s partner, a rather nervous and talkative young Auror. The youngest son of the Rosier family, Draco noticed. Alex, Allen or something. Draco couldn’t remember. A great young man, very dedicated to his job, and not a fan of the Malfoys. The Rosier family had pushed for the death penalty for all death eaters, and Draco wasn’t even in Azkaban. Despite Rosier’s mask of inexperienced and friendliness, Draco could tell he was hostile. Something was wrong.

‘Mr. Malfoy.’ Rosier said with a smile, his blue eyes rather charming, ‘Where were you on the night of December 19th?’

‘At the Yule Ball.’ Draco answered.

‘Sorry! my fault!’ Rosier said, pretending to panic a little, ‘My question wasn’t right —— where were you after the Yule Ball?’

Draco’s heart leapt. After Potter left, he got drunk at the bar of the ball and apparated straight to ‘Fantasy’.

‘What was this about?’ Draco asked irritated.

The young Rosier studied him for a moment before answering: ‘The Weasley Burrow was attacked on the night of December 19th.’

Draco immediately understood why they made such a fuss. Another very good reason for Potter to hire Weasley as personal security was Potter always spends Christmas with them. It’s easier to have Weasley escort him there so fewer people would know where it was.

No one knew where the burrow was. Not even mailman. How could the burrow be attacked?

‘How was…’ Draco asked immediately.

Rosier didn’t answer, just looked at Draco.

‘Oh for Merlin’s sake just tell me.’ Draco slammed the table in frustration, ‘Was anyone hurt?’

Rosier still didn’t answer, just asked again: ‘Where were you on the night of December 19th, between four o’clock to seven o’clock?’

Probably being spanked, sucking cock and sleeping with a collar on. None of those Draco would tell anyone. And he was beyond irritated: ‘Why the fuck are you asking me? You think I would just go mental after ten years and go screw over the Weasleys’ Christmas party for fun?’

‘No.’ Rosier said slowly, ‘Because you are a death eater.’

‘Was.’ Draco corrected him coldly, ‘I take no pride in my past mistakes, but still, I can’t be blamed for every fucking crime you can’t solve.’

‘The ones that assaulted the Weasleys’ residence,’ Rosier said, presenting a picture of the black mark twisting in the sky to Draco, ‘called themselves, neo-death eaters.’

Draco felt his blood went cold; he flipped the picture so he wouldn’t have to look at it, his fingers held the picture down on the table firmly as if to smother it, then he stared at Rosier with his poisonous mercury eyes: ‘I. Didn’t. Do. That. And I don’t think you have any evidence to hold me. Now, can I go?’

‘Em… not really.’ Rosier faked uneasiness, ‘It took us a while to piece everything together, but we finally figured out how they were able to find the burrow —— you see, Mr. Malfoy, you triggered the tracking powder, and transferred it to Mr. Potter, someone then tracked Mr. Potter to the burrow.’

Internally, Draco was panicking.

He really didn’t have much to defend himself, as it was the truth —— he did ran after Potter and triggered the tracking powder that then transferred to Potter and led to the attack. With that and his mark, Wizengamot would find him guilty in a second.

Aside from that, Draco still couldn’t help but think —— What would Potter think? Did he think that Draco’s apology was just part of a ruse to kill him?

‘So, Mr. Malfoy, we only have one deal for you.’ Rosier said, pushing a parchment and a quill to Draco, ‘Give us the names, locations and other relevant information about your accomplices, and we take the kiss off the table. You’ll have three days to think about this.’

‘Listen.’ Draco said through gritted teeth, ‘I was drunk. Maybe I did got that tracking powder on Potter, but I sure as hell wasn’t working with any psychopaths. At the very least, in order to do that, I would have to have a way to contact them, no? Unless you found any evidence of that, I’m walking out of here.’

‘Um, you are not.’ Rosier grimaced, ‘I said you have three days to think about it —— I meant three days in Azkaban. Courtesy of Mr. Keepin. Apparently, the Keepin family was very concerned with the well-being of our saviour, and greased the wheels for denying your bail and arranging your death penalty hearing after three days. Sorry.’

Draco couldn’t believe it. But Forgecount had already cast a binding spell, and began pulling Draco to the hallway.

‘What, I don’t get to argue my case?’ Draco was terrified of Azkaban, but he was determined not to let it show.

‘Like I said, you were denied bail.’ Rosier said with fake regret, ‘You can try to make your case after three days.’

The walk from the Aurors department’s interrogation room to its backdoor wasn’t long, and as they walk, Draco could feel the temperature dropping and see frosts blooming over the dimmed aisle. At the end of the aisle, the backdoor was opened, and the familiar and frightening figures of two Dementor were peeking through. They couldn’t breach the protective charms of the architecture, but as soon as Draco walked out of that door, they would own him.

Draco could feel them getting agitated, expecting a feast out of him. Fear overcame him and he stopped in front of the door, unwilling and unable to take another step.

‘Well, I can’t really scare you into giving me the names can I?’ Rosier said regretfully, ‘You will have to spend a lifetime with them anyway.’

‘I told you I had nothing to do with —— ’

Forgecount shoved Draco through the door.

Draco stumbled to keep his stand, but he knew he was beyond the range of the protective charms. The Dementors lunged at him with whatever extent of excitement possible for them, and all Draco could do was look up at them with widened frightened eyes.

—— ‘ _Expecto Patronum_.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! This porn has plot!  
> Many thanks to Mika Toshino for proofreading and answering my questions about corsage for me. Real angel.


	12. Protect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Draco got out of trouble, and got into more trouble by Quidditch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again thank Mika Toshino.

Draco watched with wide eyes as the giant stag, beautiful with rich long fur on its chest, strong antlers like coral trees, and even taller than he was, leapt in front of him. The Dementors weren’t just repelled; they were terrified and fled away. The silver stag then turned around, circled Draco as if to check he was okay, and stood guard at his side.

Draco only knew one person with a stag as Patronus.

He slowly turned around, and saw no other than Harry Potter, wearing formal black robes and looking down at his wand with a surprised expression that he quickly concealed, and looked at Draco with assurance and comfort.

Hermione Granger was by his side, turning to Forgecount and Rosier as she put away her wand and presenting them with a blue parchment: ‘This is a court order that agrees to release Mr. Malfoy on the condition of searching his legal residence and the bail of 100,000 Galleons, and this is the affirmative document that Mr. Malfoy’s bail was paid in full.’

‘On what grounds?’ Rosier was not happy, taking a step towards Draco, ‘He was the one that…’

Granger stopped him: ‘The court was well aware of the possibility that Mr. Malfoy may have transferred the tracking powder to Mr. Potter, and the court had reason to believe that if that were the case, it was an honest mistake.’

‘What reason?’ Rosier pressed.

‘The information is above your clearance.’ Granger just said, ‘Now will you join me on the search or not?’

Forgecount followed Granger, but Rosier stared at Draco for a moment before he turned around and stomped away angrily. Potter was silent the entire time, but stopped Rosier with a hand reached palm up, it took Rosier a second to understood and pulled out Draco’s wand and shoved it in Potter’s hand. Potter wasn’t offended, just cast a spell to release Draco from his incarceration, and when Draco was stunned and didn’t come back into the building, he reached out his hand: ‘Malfoy?’

Part of the reason Draco didn’t go back in was he would have no reason to stay so close to Potter’s patronus. He knew the patronus couldn’t possibly be tangible and warm, but it was so comfortable that he didn’t want to move.

But he would always take Potter’s hand.

He looked down at his hawthorn wand as Potter returned it to him, and asked quietly: ‘Why.’

Potter just tilted his head, suggesting towards the front gate: ‘Come on. I’ll walk you out.’

Draco followed silently, and they went out the front door. When Potter suggested Draco to side-along with him, Draco didn’t protest.

Once they landed, Potter answered him: ‘Sorry I couldn’t explain immediately. But as you know, someone tracked me with the tracking powder. Ron and George custom-made that batch of tracking powders, so they needed a different tracking spell, and only they and a few of the Aurors knew it. Right now, Hermione is suspecting a leak within the Auror department, so I couldn’t risk saying anything there.’

‘Were you…’ Draco asked before the nausea subsided, then felt stupid, as Potter was alive and well right in front of him, he swallowed the question then tried again, ‘Was everyone…’

But really, judging by Potter’s expression, everything must be fine.

Draco scolded himself internally.

‘Yes.’ But Potter answered him, ‘I wasn’t there during the attack. From what I heard, they played late that night; the attackers probably waited till everyone went to sleep to attack, but had set off the ward and were noticed immediately. They used the defense set up at the burrow for me and fought them, no one was hurt, and they managed to catch a few attackers. Unfortunately, their leader got away. The few got arrested said the leader always had a mask on, and couldn’t identify him.’

Draco nodded and fell silent. He looked around and found they were on a strangely familiar street, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Potter noticed his confusion, and as he tapped his toe cap on the pavement twice, the building across the street shifted to reveal the infamous Number Twelve Grimmauld Place where his mother grew up.

‘What um, what about the search?’ Draco asked.

‘Hermione got Seamus and Dean assigned to the search too, and she will be there to supervise. I’m sorry your privacy is invaded, and they will have to disturb your parents, but that’s the only way I could have you out on bail. With the mole in the Auror department, there’s a possibility they would pretend they messed up paperwork or something and get you kissed anyway. I couldn’t risk it. At least with Hermione there, no one would be able to frame you.’ Potter coughed an awkward cough, then gestured towards the house, ‘I’m sure you have a lot of questions. Why don’t you come in for a cup of tea? It’s going to take a while for your apartment to be searched, and it’s a bit freezing standing out here.’ Then he quickly added, ‘Or we could just take a walk.’

‘You are a wizard. Cast a warming spell.’ Draco said, his posture rigid, he bit his lip before looking to Potter and asked: ‘Why?’

‘Er, pardon me?’

‘Why are you doing this?’ Draco asked, turning to Potter, the lights in his silver eyes quivering, ‘Why are you trusting me, I am the one who got the tracking powder on you. Why did you post my bail, and why are you inviting me into your house? To a walk?’

‘Um, we are friends, aren’t we?’ Potter looked at him with cautious emerald eyes.

Friends.

That word stung like a bee sting, and Draco was somehow furious: ‘We’ve been friends five seconds, and you trust me with your fucking life? What’s wrong with you?’

Potter was surprised, confused and hurt. The hurt was so plainly on display that Draco felt as if he were stabbed by it, he took a step back and was in the middle of the street, cars rushed towards him, and Potter was reaching for him: ‘Look out!’

Before the car could hit him, Draco apparated away.

——

The man opened the door at the first knock, and Draco thanked Merlin for that.

He was shaking, and as soon as the man opened the door, Draco was leaning into him, and the man held him and sat down at the couch, allowing him to lie on his laps and curl up on the couch.

Understanding as ever, the man didn’t say anything until Draco said with a smothered voice: ‘The Ministry… I can’t explain. I got caught up in something, and they ceased everything I own until their search was done. Sorry I couldn’t bring the dress. I really liked it.’

The man smiled slightly and stroked Draco’s hair: ‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘I can’t do it.’ Draco said abruptly.

‘Can’t do what?’

Draco crumpled the man’s shirt: ‘Can’t be his friend. Can’t see his face. I just…can’t.’

The man was silent for a while, then asked: ‘Why.’

‘Not his fault. Mine.’ Draco said, his fingers went white at the strength he was using, ‘The first time I saw him in ten years, I made a horrible mistake and almost got him and his family and friends killed. You know what he did? He trusted me. When I saw the evidence, even I had a moment of doubt whether I did it. That Saint posted my fucking bail and personally saved my arse with that beautiful patronus of his. Why? I would like to ask why! Why in the name of Merlin he did what he did. Because I apologised, and we are friends now? Friends? So easily and he would do so much for me? Why was he so nice to me? Why did he invite me into his house? He shouldn’t… I don’t deserve it.’

The man was tentative: ‘Well, to be fair, it’s a really nice arse to save. Maybe you gave him too much credit. His motivation might be simpler than that.’

Draco was amused and angered at the same time: ‘That a compliment? And you are not seriously suggesting he wanted to fuck me.’

‘Um, no.’ The man said, ‘I don’t think Potter was the save for sex kind. He always favoured serious relationship.’

‘And he wasn’t even gay.’ Draco added, ‘Thanks for the morale talk.’

The man had that strange expression on his face again, and he shut his mouth resignedly.

The corners of Draco’s mouth pulled down: ‘No. I’m not going to think about it that way.’

The man thought for a moment, then suggested: ‘Maybe he was just trying to be nice. You had just became friends, and things happened. Maybe he thought he needed to show you his trust and his dedication to the friendship so you would feel comfortable staying friends with him. He didn’t seem like the kind that’s very good at handling delicate sentiments.’

Draco lied on the man’s lap, covering his eyes with his hand: ‘I… I can’t. I don’t want to… I don’t want to sink deeper into this than I already do. He will never… I’m not worth it. It felt better when he hated me. Being friends… he’s just too nice. He can’t be seriously trying to be friends with me. And the hope. It’s excruciating.’

Draco felt tears welling up in his eyes, and he turned to bury his face in the man’s stomach: ‘It was so beautiful… his patronus, you know. It was the most beautiful patronus I’ve ever seen. How could he save me with his patronus, do you know when was the first time I saw it?’

The man didn’t answer, just gently stroking Draco’s hair, and Draco was sobbing: ‘Third year. When I found out he was scared of Dementor, I tampered with his game. But he wasn’t afraid. There I was, in the middle of the air, watching him pull out his wand, cast the charm, and the silver stag came straight at me, it looked younger than it was today, but already strong and no less beautiful… and he was souring into the sky, catching the snitch… He was so fearless, so beautiful… ’

The man was silent; at some point, he stopped playing with Draco’s hair. His emerald eyes were dark and bright at the same time, and Draco felt himself burning under the intense gaze.

The man gently combed his fingers through the hair on Draco’s temple and asked hoarsely: ‘Would you like to do a scene now?’

——

Draco already knew this was a gigantic room of requirement, he just didn’t realize exactly how gigantic, because the man just tapped the floor and a downward stair appeared, leading to a bloody _Quidditch field_.

‘Wha…’ Draco was stunned.

‘You don’t know how many people have fantasies related to Quidditch.’ The man smiled, backing into the field, looking dazzling wearing his shirt, suit pants and oxford, ‘So this was built. But just recently. It’s the first time it’s been used.’

‘Um, where are you going?’

‘Gryffindor locker room.’ The man said, ‘In case you didn’t notice, it’s across from the field. Slytherin locker room is on your left, by the way. But you are more than welcomed to join me.’

Draco hesitated, and the man got it immediately: ‘Go get your gear, I’ll leave the door open.’

Draco got his Slytherin seeker gear and ran towards the Gryffindor locker room. He got there right on time, as the man just stripped to his underwear and starting to put on the Gryffindor seeker gear. It was a delicious view. Draco missed the striptease, but had his fun covertly strip teasing the man to the point the man chastised him smiling: ‘If you give me a hard time putting on my cup Malfoy, I will make it difficult for you to sit on the broom.’

Draco would not admit he pouted.

He wondered how just the presence the man could make him so happy, heal his wounds and make him forget about all the grey in his life, smiled as he started putting on his gear.

The way the man put on his gear caught Draco’s eye. He was obviously more than familiar with them, the way he bit on the straps to hold it in place, the wordless spells he used to fixate them, it wouldn’t be possible if this was the first time or the first hundred time he did it.

‘You like Quidditch?’ Draco stopped and asked.

The man was busy with his gauntlets and answered with a smile without looking up: ‘Yeah. It’s my favourite sport. Why, you want a seekers game before our scene?’

Draco was immediately attracted: ‘You would do that?’

‘Why not.’

‘It wouldn’t be fair.’ Draco smirked, ‘You must know I played seeker back in school. I can’t see how you can win.’

The man looked up at that, his emerald eyes bright with challenge: ‘You want to bet on it?’

For a moment there, Draco felt he was right back at school, before every Quidditch match he played against Potter. Draco loved Quidditch as a sport, but Quidditch with Potter was an entirely different deal. Quidditch was like cheesecake, already delicious by itself, but Potter was the cherry on top. It didn’t really change anything, just made the cake ten times more attractive, and somehow became the soul and essence of the cake.

Nothing else mattered other than the excited voice telling him to take the challenge.

The man stretched out a hand, and that Firebolt of his came shooting and was caught in his firm fingers, he smiled a confident smile and said slowly: ‘If you win, I’ll blow you, you can come as many times as you would like. If I win, well, you just have to do everything I say in front of the crowd.’

Draco’s cock throbbed at the lucrative offer, but there’s something else: ‘…What crowd?’

The entire school apparently.

Draco couldn’t believe when he saw the entire stage filled with students, Gryffindors and Slytherins with paint on their cheeks and flags in their hands, rooting for their team; Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were also there to watch the game. The Ravenclaws even had books in their hands to read before the game and maybe as a precaution if the game wasn’t interesting.

‘It’s just an installed glamour.’ The man explained to Draco, ‘If you get on the stages you’ll find you can walk through everyone. But I shall say, the experience is authentic —— except for all the glamour of audiences and players are above the legal age and we removed the faculty stage because it’s too much of a buzz kill.’

‘—— Ready?’ The man asked grinning.

Draco collected himself and smirked back: ‘Always.’

And then the sound of Lee Jordan echoed the field: ‘We’re here today for the Quidditch match of Gryffindor against Slytherin! Both were great teams with even odds of winning!’

As he spoke, the Gryffindor team and Slytherin team entered the field and got into position. Draco looked to the man, and he explained: ‘The Glamour is rigged to play the record of one of the old matches we played.’

Then came Lee’s roaring voice: ‘Aaaaand to top it up, the epic seekers game and thrilling bet between our beloved Harry Potter and his longtime rivalry, recently favourite pet, Draco Malfoy!’

‘ _What_?’ Draco blushed fiercely and looked at Potter with disbelief.

‘He’s saying what I am thinking at the moment.’ Potter pointed a finger to his temple, to prove his point, he spoke in synchronise with Lee: ‘“The two had played against each other for several times, and indeed presented us with fine games. However, Harry had always won by close calls. Will Harry continue his history of triumph, or will Malfoy be able to get his first win?” —— Not really all my words but it’s fun imagining how Lee would exaggerate it.’

‘Oh, you bastard!’

Draco grabbed his broom and stumped into the field, hearing the annoying sound of Lee taunting him on Potter’s behalf: ‘There comes our protagonists today! Owww Malfoy looks like an angry ferret with puffed fur, provoking talk before the game got under his skin? While Harry looks very indulgent.’

Draco could feel his face burning and his heart singing because Potter had called him his ‘favourite pet’ and when they settled into their position, he saw Potter was indeed looking at him with bright green eyes and indulging smile.

And the whistle blew.

——

Draco had forgotten what a Quidditch match felt like. He did still flew regularly —— a little less since he started squeezing every second with Potter and he couldn’t really fly after being spanked, but he could only ever fly solo, and that’s greatly different from an intense match.

Everyone else was busy with the quaffle, Lee Jordan is talking in high velocity, and there were sounds of cheering and disappointment flowing like sea waves underneath them.

But aside from dodging the glamour of the bludger which will set off an alarm and show the player was hit on a few occasions, Draco only cared about Potter as if he were the only other person on the field.

For obvious reasons, Draco was trying to impress Potter. He had always leaned more on his skills than strength, and it’s not just practical skills, but fancy skills. Part of him cared more about flying beautifully, putting on a show than winning. What can he say? Vanity was his sin.

And Potter.

Potter always was a great flyer, he flies beautifully in a different way: clean, practical, never any redundant movement, always in perfect control. If he was playing a normal game, with no cursed broom, cursed bludger or Dementors that is. It was hard to take his eyes off Potter. He had always watched Potter more than he was looking for the snitch in their games.

Everyone else was looking out for everything else, but the seekers only cared about each other. And this had always been Draco’s favourite time, because that’s when he could get most of Potter’s attention.

Indeed the man was looking at him. Not that he’s not focusing on the game, and not just checking to see if Draco had found the snitch, but he was attracted to Draco. The way Draco handled the broom, he could be a medieval knight in silver armor on a white horse. And something was really suggestive with him having a broom between his legs and in his hands. Even more tempting when he was in full Quidditch gear than when he was naked.

‘Aaaaand GOAL!’ Came the recorded voice of Lee Jordan during the past game, ‘Gryffindor is now a hundred and twenty points ahead of Slytherin! Their only chance at winning is catching the snitch!’

Fuck! Was this the ‘Weasley is Our King’ game? He couldn’t tell because the glamours were all legal age.

He really needed to focus.

It was then Potter’s body language changed, he turned swiftly and Draco knew he must have seen the snitch, and followed him immediately.

‘Does Harry see the snitch? Oh yes, he did! But Malfoy is right behind him —— ’

It took a while for Draco to see the snitch, but after a few turns, Potter and he were neck to neck chasing right after it.

‘Now the game is getting more and more intense! The seekers are closing in on the snitch, and there’s no telling who will catch it!’

Normally this would be the part where he tries to knock Potter off the broom, but he was not interested in that kind of physical contact now. The snitch shot up to the sky, and just when they both got really close, it took a nosedive straight to the ground, and they both followed, but it disappeared as they both had to make a steep turn to avoid crashing to the ground.

Draco hadn’t had such kind of thrilling experience in years, and he was laughing when they lost track of the snitch: ‘Looks like you still got it Potter.’

Potter was taking in Draco’s laugh, as if a man looking at the blossom of the million flowers for the first time in his life, his eyes so concentrated that Draco almost felt self-conscious.

That’s when Draco saw it.

The golden snitch, flapping its sliver wings, right behind Potter.

He made a split-second decision, ditched his broom and jumped to Potter’s embrace, his hand reaching behind Potter as if to hold him.

But then, the snitch moved just a little closer, the wind stirred by its wings alerted Potter, Draco had a moment of panic as they were still several feet above ground and Draco would definitely break a few bones if he fell, but Potter let go of his broom and forwent the snitch without blinking, reached out both of his hands and caught Draco firmly in his arms as Draco caught the snitch.

The game ended.


	13. Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco got his punishment and reward in front of the crowd. And they had a talk. Not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, but it’s a difficult chapter to write.  
> Thank Mika for proofreading.

Potter narrowed his eyes.

Draco’s win was announced, and the Slytherin house was cheering for him, but he could hear the distant chatter coming from the stage: ‘Malfoy could have gotten himself killed.’  
‘Malfoy cheated!’  
‘No, he didn’t!’  
‘Harry saved Malfoy!’  
‘And Malfoy‘s got his legs wrapped around Harry.’

But just inches away, he could see the rage in Potter’s eyes smouldering, and the joy of winning was quickly forgotten. Only now did he realise how much trouble he was in. He had honey-trapped Potter, but more importantly, he had risked his safety. It seemed to happen a lot today, as he was subconsciously seeking thrill and maybe harm himself. If he learned anything by now, was that Potter would make him pay for that, and he flinched and looked away under Potter’s gaze.

He tried to get away, as having his legs wrapped around Potter in front of the school really wasn’t decent, but Potter didn’t let him go, held Draco very tight as he lowered his broom till he could sit on the broom with his feet on the ground. Without any word, he put Draco over his lap roughly.

Surprised and confused chatters were coming from the stages: ‘What is Potter doing!?’  
‘What’s happening?’

Before Draco could struggle, Potter’s hand landed on Draco’s arse.

‘What the fuck are you doing?!’ Draco yelled.

It didn’t exactly hurt very much over the layers of clothes, but Draco felt his face burn up as the entire school was watching Potter spank him, there were already gasps and whistles and chatters as if a beehive was provoked, he jumped and fought to get away as the strong sense of shame hit him: ‘No! Let go of me!’

But Potter wasn’t having any of that. He smacked two more times and incarcerated Draco’s hands to his Firebolt. He crushed Draco’s rebellion like a tyrant, held Draco down firmly, and to punish Draco for fighting back; he threw aside Draco’s cape. The beige riding breeches Draco was wearing outlined the curve of his arse perfectly, and having it on display was more than embarrassing.

The sting was only slightly more distinct, but it felt hugely more humiliating, and the crowd had caught up with it, as Draco heard someone gasped: ‘Is Harry… is he _spanking_ Malfoy?’  
‘About time! Someone should teach him a lesson.’  
‘Awww he’s punishing his pet. Lovely.’  
‘Finally! He’s been spoiling that brat for too long. Maybe now Malfoy will finally learn to behave.’

Draco could feel Potter was furious, normally he wouldn’t dare to challenge Potter again, but he was watched, by the entire school for Merlin’s sake, he couldn’t just yield, and after a few warming spanks, Potter started to unfasten Draco’s belt, Draco panicked and struggled fiercely: ‘No! Potter, Don’t you dare…’

But not a word from Potter, his face stern and cold as stone. Tears of humiliation welled up in Draco’s eyes, but he couldn’t really put up much of a defence with both his hands bound, and his tears couldn’t move Potter, not even a little. If anything, his earlier defiance had enraged Potter even more. He roughly pulled Draco’s pants down, leaving on the thin and pearly white silk underwear.

A wave of heated discussion surged from the crowd, Draco could hear them discussing: ‘Posh brat.’  
‘Cutie whitie, huh?’  
‘Nice arse.’

Draco blushed to the point it was painful, but Potter started to spank him again and drew his most of his attention back to the pain. It was the hand spanking Draco had familiarised himself with, but it also felt very different as Potter was wearing leather gloves that clad his palm, but left his fingers free, Quidditch gloves were heavy and stiff, therefore had a sting similar to the leather paddle, and the sensation of Potter’s leather-clad hand against Draco’s almost bare arse was somehow a denial of intimacy and extremely intimate at the same time.

This is the first time Draco had really crossed a line. He had really provoked Potter, evident by the fact that Potter hadn’t said a word since Draco jumped off his broom, and this was the worst hand spanking Potter had ever given him, smacking hard and fast, making Draco moan and cry, writhing on his lap with no escape, his arse was bright pink and swollen in no time, pretty like a ripe peach, tempting the man to take a bite and taste the sweetness.

But today the man had other priorities. He was determined to teach Draco a lesson, and moved his hand to the rim of Draco’s underwear.

‘No! Fuck you, Potter —— No!’

That did change Potter’s mind. But instead of pulling it down, Potter wedged it between Draco’s arsecheeks and used it as leverage to hold Draco steady, but his hand was smacking on Draco’s bare arse nonetheless. Exceptionally hard two times, probably to punish Draco for cursing.

It was different from the usual way Potter spanked Draco, as the goal was no longer play and arousal but harsh punishment. It didn’t mean it wasn’t arousing, just a lot more shameful and really, really painful, so much that Draco felt he couldn’t take it. He hadn’t even felt this way last time Potter spanked him a thousand times.

‘No! Ah! Please… Ah…! Stop!’ Other than the shame and pain, Potter’s wordless also put Draco on edge, Draco wanted to run away, but he also wanted to beg for forgiveness and be comforted by Potter.

But that only earned him laughs and taunting from the stage: ‘Ohhhh he’s begging now.’  
‘Always knew Malfoy was a spineless wuss.’  
‘Look at that _arse_! Such a pretty red. Maybe Potter should keep it that way. That’s the only time that naughty pet of his is obedient.’  
‘Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, a hundred!’ Someone counted.  
‘Enjoying it, Malfoy?’ Someone else laughed and teased.

That provoked Draco. He was flushed to the tip of his ears, and he shouted: ‘You are just taking it out on me because you lost! You don’t want to go through with the bet, is that it? You — sadistic —— _cheating_ bastard!’

Potter stopped.

By then Draco’s arse was spanked thoroughly, burning and throbbing in pain, and despite Potter’s rage, he was methodical, painted Draco’s entire arse with an even and pretty shade of red. He let go of Draco, but Draco was weak at his knees and had to lean on the Firebolt to stand.

Potter jumped off the Firebolt, and Draco felt the Firebolt ascending until Draco’s hands were almost stretched straight above his head. Potter walked in front of him as Draco struggled to stand, his eyes still heated with angry fire, but he leaned in and whispered in angry seduction by Draco’s ear: ‘Oh I intend to make good on that bet. Since you brought it up ——’

Then, Potter got down on one knee, pulled Draco’s silk underwear just under his balls and took Draco’s cock into his mouth.

Draco almost screamed as Potter sucked him hard and took him deep down his throat.

‘Did Harry just kneel and suck Malfoy?’  
‘Awww he honoured that bet.’  
‘He went down on one knee. _Romantic_.’  
‘Potter really took it all in.’  
‘Oi! Malfoy! Was Potter any good at sucking cock?’

Potter had always had higher body temperature than he did, and that mouth of his was smoother than silk. He was indeed good at blow jobs, not in a pleasing way, but an invading way, even though he was the one with the cock in his mouth, he still made Draco feel like he was the one being fucked. Taken in by the tight and soft heat, Draco was sure he wouldn’t be able to stand if he wasn’t hoisted up by the Firebolt, and every lick, suck and swallow, Potter incited intense reaction from Draco.

‘Look at him! Screaming like a _slut_.’  
‘Bet you he is _wet_.’

Draco felt his eyes tear up and he buried his burning face in his arm, biting down on his arm trying not come too fast.

But Potter had got all the information he needed, he had already figured out Draco’s sensitive spots and the rhythm Draco that would drive Draco crazy, and he was using it to push Draco over the edge ruthlessly.

He gave one last hard suck, and Draco was coming in his mouth, moaning so loud that he could hear his own voice echoing in the Quidditch field.

Draco looked down and saw Potter spat out his cum as he stood up, he pulled out Draco’s belt, released the incarceration and Draco dropped to the ground. Looking up, he saw Potter wielded the belt and transfigured it into a long whip: ‘Strip.’

Draco bit down on his lip and wouldn’t comply.

‘It seems I have indeed spoiled you.’ Potter said coldly, the whip broke the air with a loud crack, ‘Strip, or else.’

Draco flinched at that, he apparently stalled for too long, as Potter reached his limit of indulgence, spelled away his cape and shirt, leaving on his gauntlets, boots, cup, pants and underwear that were pulled down to his knees, and strung him back up.

Draco was now standing half-naked in the middle of the Quidditch field with his arm’s stretched straight above his head, watched by the entire school, his reddened arse and soft cock on display.

‘Pretty boy.’  
‘Lovely pet.’  
‘Mark him!’  
Calls came from the stage.

‘A golden snitch is worth one hundred and fifty points.’ Potter said coldly, ‘Apparently that was worth your health and safety.’

Draco lowered his head at the shame, the forgotten golden snitch that was still in his hands flapped its wings.

‘So that was the amount I decided for you.’ Potter said while he raised the whip, rubbing the rough leather material across Draco’s tender skin, stopping at Draco’s left nipple, grinding at the pink bud, ‘Since you stopped me at one hundred, mouthed off to me after I already warned you once, I hope you enjoy the next fifty strikes with the whip.’

Draco bit down on his lip, his platinum hair loose after the game and the punishment, he half hid his face behind his right arm, looking at the man pleadingly with a red-rimmed silver eye. His eye was begging for forgiveness and comfort, his body was trembling in fear and anticipation, but his back was straight and defiant. That’s just typical Draco Malfoy, unable to speak his desire, hungry for love and attention, fragile and vulnerable, but unyielding and rebellious. He was such a contradictory paradox that he forever fascinates and tempts the man.

Potter swung his arm, and the first strike landed across Draco’s chest, it stung like a lick of fire, raising a long, bright red welt. Draco groaned, and the beautiful muscles of his body strained at that, he struggled to hold still, unable even to notice that Potter had walked behind him until the next strike landed across his back.

Potter wasn’t trying to avoid crossing the wounds, just landing the whip all over Draco’s chest, stomach, back and thighs. The whip marks grew on Draco’s alabaster skin like branches of thorns, winding his lean body, showing it off in sacrificial beauty, as if the golden canary trapped in a rose bush.

Draco cried out in pain and arousal, struggling to hold his stance after every strike, screaming as Potter landed three strikes on his swollen arse —— one parallel across his upper arse, two lower strikes crossed each other on his left arse cheek.

Potter brushed away Draco’s tears and released the incarceration, Draco dropped to his knees, couldn’t help but shaking and sobbing a little, but there’s something else: he only counted forty.

‘The last ten strikes,’ Potter said as he stepped on Draco’s sore arse cruelly and forced him to raise his arse high with his chest flat on the ground, with this position, Draco’s arse cheeks parted a little naturally and revealed his tensed pink arsehole, ‘I want to teach you a lesson —— I’m going to punish you, here.’

He transfigured the whip to a riding crop with a patch of hard leather on the tip, pressed it at Draco’s arsehole and Draco panicked, tried to get up, but Potter held him down by the back of his neck, his voice calm with compressed anger and hurt: ‘This is the second time you disobeyed my order to take care of yourself, Draco Malfoy, you almost got yourself killed. I do not tolerate that. You don’t think you deserve this?’

Draco bit his lip, and cringed at the use of his full name. He knew he deserves it. Something in Potter’s chastisement made him realise the man must have cared for him deeply, and his recklessness truly frightened and hurt the man. He would do anything to show Potter his remorse.

‘Part your cheeks yourself.’ Potter ordered.

Draco abused his bottom lip but complied, let go of the snitch, reached his hands back shakily and grabbed one cheek in each hand, parted them until his arsehole was on full display. His pale fingers presented a stark contrast with his red arse, sinking into the swollen flesh slightly, made one wonder its softness, and his pink arsehole tender and vulnerable, flustering a little in the middle of the the still white cleft.

It was incredibly beautiful, him offering the most vulnerable part of his body so compliantly, in such a lewd position —— back bent backwards to a beautiful curve, long, lean arms stretched behind, legs parted wide and arse raised to the highest. Every angle and curve were to perfection as if a swan chained to the ground.

That caused an uproar in the stands like water poured into boiled oil, Draco could barely make out some name-calling, and some wolf-whistling, urging Potter to punish him. By this time, the sense of shame had faded, leaving behind only the excitement of being watched and humiliated.

‘Count, apologise, and thank me for each strike, if you let go of your hands, we’ll start from the beginning.’ Potter instructed and landed the first strike.

The nerves there were woken by Potter and became even more sensitive. The riding crop only landed on Draco’s arsehole, painting the light pink there a shade deeper, and the pain had Draco crying out, painful as if licked by fire and pinched by needles, his fingers dug into the swollen flesh as the pucker tensed tight for a few seconds before relaxing shakily.

‘Ahhh! One! Www… I’m… sorry, sir…Thank you, sir.’

The man took his time, as he knew the more sensitive the flesh, the longer the pain will linger, and he wanted Draco to suffer every second of it to drill the lesson deep into him.

However, it wasn’t just pure pain, after each strike, the initial pain degrades into numbness and sending an itch deep into the hole that made him hard and wet, eager to be touched, stroked, and fucked.

Potter was ruthless, by strike seven, Draco was outright crying, tears tainting his face, the cute little pucker deep pink and swollen, but he didn’t dare let go of his hands, just writhed in the pain and burning desire, and he was begging: ‘Seven! I’m sorry… please, I promise I won’t disobey you again —— Thank you…sir……’

But then the next strike.

Draco screamed: ‘Ah! Eight, please! I’m sorry……Please it hurts so much…Ahhh! Nine, Potter! Please, please I’m sorry……Thank you, sir…Please Potter, I…’

Potter landed another strike and scolded: ‘Not thankful Malfoy? You left out one.’

Draco counted the tenth strike and sobbed through the pain, turned his head as Potter leaned down, gently pushed away his hair to speak in his ear: ‘One more, Malfoy, one more. Will you be able to take one more for me?’

Draco broke out a sob but nodded, and down came the last strike, particularly ruthless, the entire length of the riding crop landed in his cleft, painting it pink, the poor red little pucker spasmed in pain but blossomed beautifully as if an immature dainty rose, shining as it’s wet, outright inviting.

‘AHHH! Uh… Eleven… I’m sorry. I will never… never do it again… please forgive me. And thank you, sir.’

‘You did well.’ Potter said, stroking Draco’s hair, as Draco sobbed, he placed a phantom kiss at Draco’s temple, and Draco cried into Potter’s palm in pain, humiliation and the burning desire. He could tell the punishment was over, but Potter wasn’t exactly satisfied, he was really cross with Draco’s behaviour today, still frowning even after Draco had taken the punishment he deemed fit.

And even though the punishment was over, Draco wouldn’t dare let go because he knew it would be painful squeezing his abused arsehole. But Potter decided it for him, as he summoned a salve, dipped his fingers in it, then stroked and pulled at the swollen pucker, coating it with the salve before slipping a finger in. Draco’s hole was already tight before it was swollen, and having that finger squeeze through that abused ring of muscle was painful, but he wanted to be fucked so bad, and Potter’s finger was skillful, few touches of the inner wall and Draco was pushing back onto it.

His movement was too obvious and earned him a few name callings from the stage: ‘The infamous Slytherin _slut_.’  
‘Look at him, so eager to be fucked even after his hole was whipped swollen.’

Draco tensed at that, his slicked hole sucked Potter’s finger in deep and squeezed it hard. Potter chuckled at that, then he flipped Draco over, placed one hand under Draco’s waist to support his weight and ease the pressure on Draco’s battered arse before he took Draco’s still hard cock back in his mouth.

Draco almost went crazy at that, and the chatters were flowing in again: ‘Awww they are doing it again!’  
‘I only wonder why they didn’t do it before.’

Another slam to the back of Potter’s throat and Draco couldn’t help but reach down, but he wouldn’t dare grab Potter’s hair, just shakily rested his hands on Potter’s cheeks, touching his messy hair and heated ears.

Potter’s finger rubbed Draco’s prostate in circles, and Draco came down Potter’s throat, screaming. But Potter wasn’t finished, he didn’t even stop for a second, just licked at Draco’s cock and balls, added another finger and fucked Draco through his refractory period, so hard that Draco could feel part of his leather glove fucking in and out of his rim. The intense sensation was both extremely pleasant that made Draco melt and too forceful that Draco wanted to escape, and Draco was crying out and begging for mercy. Soon Draco was hard again, and Potter went back to work. Gently this time, building up the pleasure, milking Draco for another orgasm.

Draco felt his vision blur at the long torment. He was lying in the middle of the field with Potter on top of him, watched and commented by faceless everyone, there’s cheering, and there’s name-calling and slut-shaming, and everything was fading to lights, noises and blobs of colours, except for the intense orgasm that’s building up, he moaned and begged stuttering: ‘Please Harry… so close.’

Harry stilled at the use of his first name, then skillfully stuck the tip of his tongue into the opening of his urethra, giving it a tactical flick and Draco came again, white fireworks went off that he couldn’t think or move for a moment.

Before he lost his lucidity, Harry moved right on top of him, those emerald eyes looked down straight into his eyes, sneered with a bit of white cum by his reddened lips, the glints in his emerald eyes were both lazy and aggressive, like a contained lion and a child waiting for a compliment.

‘One more?’ He asked taunting.

Draco smiled, he wanted to reach behind his head and pull him into a kiss, but he was too tired and fell asleep right there.

——

The man was still pissed at him, Draco was sure of it because he woke up nice and clean, his wounds taken care of, but he was in the _basket_.

Despite the man’s principle that pets don’t sleep in the bed, he had never let Draco sleep in the basket before. He had indeed spoiled Draco, and Draco would do anything to get back on his bed tonight.

The man wasn’t asleep, just reading some materials in the bed, his face expressionless as he saw Draco woke up, Draco looked up at him, debating whether he should just climb onto the bed even it may earn him further punishment, or he should just play nice and stay in the basket.

The man let Draco sat uneasily for a while before laying down the documents and patting his thigh. Draco climbed onto them happily.

He made a beautiful decoration for the man’s lap.

The man took Draco’s still red and swollen arse in his hands, squeezed the warm flesh, and then slipped one finger in Draco’s cleft to check the healing condition: ‘How is it?’

‘Painful.’ Draco grimaced, ‘Better now, but still feeling it.’

‘Good.’ The man said, stroking Draco’s still swollen hole, ‘You needed your lesson.’

Draco bit his lip a little to stop himself from moaning, the man finished his checking, tapped his arse lightly and said: ‘We need to talk.’

Draco responded immediately: ‘I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t thinking.’

‘Well, you almost stopped my heart. And your punishment is not over yet. It seems I let you off too easy last time, and I’m not making that mistake again —— I distinctly remember you saying you have some free time after the Yule Ball, so you are staying with me. You will have your reminder spanking after breakfast and before bedtime; hopefully, this time, you will learn.’ Draco blushed at that, but the man squeezed his arse to get his attention back, ‘But that’s not what I want to talk about.’

‘Then what? Just spit it out, Potter.’ Something in the man’s voice tipped Draco off, Draco shrugged but kept his eyes looking down, on the dark mark on his forearm.

The man clad his hand over the dark mark and kept his tone soft: ‘When we talked earlier, you kept saying you don’t think you deserve or worth…’

‘Can we maybe not talk about this?’ Draco turned his face away, but the man held it in his palm, and pushed his stray fringe out of his face, he buried his fingers into Draco’s hair and Draco couldn’t help but lean into it.

The man watched him closely for a while, then conceded: ‘Fine. But I want you to know, there’s nothing in the world you don’t deserve, and I want to ask you if you would like me to remove…’

Draco felt a surge of rage and his eyes teared up at that: ‘Right. And I would like Harry Potter to fuck me senseless someday and be my boyfriend the next morning. I’m sure my dark mark would be a huge turn-on for him.’

The man paused, then continued: ‘About that, I rather dislike the mark of someone else on my pet.’

The man’s words stabbed Draco deep. His disgust at the mark Draco couldn’t get rid of made him feel diminished and abandoned like a stray cat kicked to the curb for its ugliness. He felt stupid as he had grown to thought the man genuinely cared and maybe liked him, only to be reminded that the man put up with him for his gold.

‘Listen to me —— Malfoy!’

The man tried to talk to him, but Draco fought with everything he got to get away, but the man managed to summon his wand, held it against Draco’s forearm and whispered something incomprehensible and strangely familiar. Then, the dark mark began twisting, screaming and smoking on Draco’s arm as if in extreme pain, Draco watched with wide eyes as the man frowned at concentration and channelling magic, fighting the dark magic that burst out for the last time, until all of it was gone, burned off in a screaming fume.

It was really gone.

The forearm that once resided the dark magic of Voldemort, was flawless as before.

Draco froze in disbelief, then he pushed the man into the bed, grabbed his collar and shouted: ‘Why did you do that? Why?! Even if it’s gone, it doesn’t mean that I… Nothing changed, don’t you understand? I am still an ex-death eater, I’m still…’

‘I know.’ The man said quietly, holding him close, ‘I know. But.’

The man didn’t finish, and he didn’t need to. The earlier injustice Draco suffered from the Aurors, the near escape of the Dementors and Azkaban, and the years he spent in cold eyes and fought to be recognised, the nights he spent hating and mutilating the mark, all came back to him, and Draco cried to the man’s chest as he stroked Draco’s hair.

And for the first time in a very, very long time, Draco felt free.


	14. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas with the man, Quidditch, and friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mika is the best.

If Draco were to name the least favourite part of the days he spent with the man, he would have to say that it would be when the man would force Draco to kneel and state his misbehaviours before his reminder spankings. 

When the man asked him on the night of Christmas, Draco honestly couldn’t think of anything he did wrong aside from what the man had already punished him for. The man laughed a little at his confusion, then pulled out a box: ‘I figured since you got your dress confiscated, I better get you something else —— my picky pet wouldn’t be happy if he got nothing new to wear on Christmas would he?’

Draco blushed at the man’s words, and saw him pull out a silver silk slip dress with white laces of roses, barely the length of his thigh, mostly bareback and only a few straps holding it together at the arse.

It was a nice piece, but it finally reminded Draco the shirt he ‘took’ from the man.

‘Er, I’m sorry?’ Draco tried. But he really liked that shirt. Even though the man had given him this new pretty dress, he’s still not giving that shirt back. As a matter of fact, that shirt would fit very well with this dress.

The man laughed and patted his lap: ‘No you are not. Come on. I’ll make sure you are sorry.’

So Draco got into the slip dress and got a taste of wooden ruler —— the kind that’s used by a tailor, the man really had a thing for poetic justice. Just ten strikes on his arse but they were not so easy to take nonetheless. It had the similar bite of the wood paddle Potter used on him earlier, but the ruler's square tip hurts more, so Potter kindly aimed it at Draco’s right arse cheek as his left already sustained the overlap of whip marks. It had Draco moaning and writhing, painted Draco’s arse right back to the pretty red.

Apparently, the man didn’t abide by stealing —— Draco would say pranking, at worst it's taking other people’s things without asking for consent’, and it’s not like the man didn’t enjoy thinking about Draco wearing it, or that he wouldn’t like it when he sees Draco wear it. Draco argued his point and got his sentence doubled to twenty strikes —— lightly. But that wasn’t the end of it. The bastard made him kneel back on the ground and stretch out both of his hands for another ten strikes.

Needless to say, there’s not much room to avoid overlap, and Draco had long slim hands with no redundant fat, so the ruler stung really bad, and easily made Draco’s palms burn red and swell up. Draco teared up at the first strike, reflectively took his hands back at the third, the man scolded him and started the counting from the beginning, but it was too painful, and Draco took his hands back at the first strike, tears fell, and he refused to stretch out his hands again.

Of course, the man would make Draco regret disobeying him. He got an extra spanking for that until he yielded and finished the ten strikes on his hands sobbing.

Of course, the man was very caring. Later, he carefully rubbed salve over Draco’s palm; he even blew lightly at Draco’s palm as he complained they felt like burning. Maybe it was the mentha spicata in the salve; the light blowing did make it feel cooler. And the man’s gentle, staid and serious profile in the warm yellow bedside lamp light moved Draco’s heart just a little.

So many things happened that Draco wouldn’t remember it’s still Christmas, if the man hadn’t given him the dress.

Lying in bed by the man’s side, with the man’s marks all over him, his arse, hands and whip marks stinging pleasantly, Draco felt like he’s lying in syrup, he hesitated a little, then apologise quietly: ‘Sorry I didn’t think of getting you a gift.’

The man turned to look at him, smiled as he stroked Draco’s cheek: ‘It’s alright. Don’t worry about it. There’s really nothing I want that I don’t have… well, nothing I can have now anyway.’

But Draco felt bad at it. He was the one that constantly forgot he was paying the man, and he didn’t think of getting the man a Christmas present as if their relationship was well settled with the Galleons he paid. To make the matter worse, he knew the man must not have received many Christmas presents. But right now, everything of his was under search, and he couldn’t pull something out of the hat.

The man noticed Draco’s guilt, thought for a moment, then asked: ‘There is something you can give me as a gift though.’

‘Name it, and it’s yours.’ Draco said.

The man smiled a bright smile that could light up the night; then he said hesitantly: ‘I’ve never… I’ve never had a goodnight kiss before.’ 

Draco’s heart ached and melted at that.

Narcissa Malfoy, albeit too spoiling, was the perfect mother. That may have resulted in Draco being a brat and bully back in school, but it also gave him an incredible sense of security and the emotional capacity to love given a chance. He remembered how mother used to tell him bedtime stories, tug him in and kiss his forehead every night before he went to Hogwarts, the tiny disappointment mother showed when he came back from Hogwarts for the first night and declared he was too old for goodnight kisses, and how he missed them the first nights without.

The man shifted on the bed to be face to face with Draco, moved closer and held Draco’s face in his hands: ‘My uh, I guess you could say foster mother, she loved her son very much, though she was too spoiling. She always kissed him good night. I never liked her very much, but I guess I always envied that. There’s this woman, the nicest lady in the world, her son is my best friend, I had a few sleepovers at their place, I see her as the closest I’ve ever had as a mother. She was very nice to me, but um, maybe it’s because she didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, ‘cause we were already more than little boys by then, and my friend rejected such intimacy with her, she never kissed me good night either.’

He then switched to a lighter tone: ‘But —— you didn’t have to. I understand that you don’t want to involve kiss in our… our relationship.’

Draco had rejected the man kissing him before. But that was mostly he didn’t want to admit to the man or himself that he liked the owner of that face a little too much. It wasn’t that he didn’t want the man to kiss him, or that he didn’t want to kiss him —— Merlin knows he wants to. Normally Draco wouldn’t care about kissing anyone, he couldn’t even remember most of the people he kissed, but kissing the man felt too intimate, too much, yet why, Draco didn’t know.

Right now, he didn’t care. The man could want Draco’s heart, and Draco would serve it in a silver platter for him to cherish or break into a million pieces. He didn’t care.

The man can have anything he wants to Christmas.

‘I’ll raise you one better.’ Draco said, and he kissed the man on his lips.

It wasn’t a fierce, hot, sexy kind of kiss, but so soft as if touched by a fallen petal of cherry blossom, only lingered a moment longer. For a second everything in the man’s mind fell away, he widened his eyes as he couldn’t understand whether that kiss really happened, but the softness of Draco’s lips, the phantom sweetness, was too real and too good to be an imagination.

There was a light pink blush on Draco’s cheeks as he leaned in for a second time, kissed the man on his forehead and held him close: ‘There’s… there’s this song mother used to sing to me when I couldn’t sleep. Have um, have anyone ever sing you a lullaby before?’

‘No.’ The man answered, he snuggled closer and took a deep breath of the floral scent of the potions he used on Draco.

‘Well then, consider yourself lucky because I’m feeling generous today.’ Draco said, his blush deepened, ‘But I have to say, I’ve never done this before —— but I’ve never been off-key before.’

The man didn’t answer.

And so Draco hummed. He was surprised that he still remembered all the lyrics, and sang softly: ‘Vain little fairy fly to town, round and round; Green-eyed wizard walked by the pound, got its heart bound; Asked the wizard for his praise, turned it down; Got his heartbroken to pieces, fell to the ground; Oh my wizard spare me a glance, kiss me before dawn…Got my heart bound, got my heart bound……’

The man tried to stay awake for the whole song, but Draco’s silver voice slipped him to the wonderland of dreams so easily, and he was asleep before the ending of the love story, a little regretful but so very content.

——

For the first time, Draco got to spend a lot of free time with the man.

The man was a busy man, had to deal with quite some paperwork, for what Draco wasn’t sure. He respected the man’s privacy, just dealt with his own works Elise sent over or read the books in the man’s bookshelf —— the man had a surprisingly good inventory despite a lot of them looked too new to have been consulted often, some of them looked like books only Granger would consider a gift, others looked like the kind Granger would read once and throw somewhere. The man also had to spend some time away from the dungeon, but he half-jokingly promised Draco he wasn’t on call to another client.

As for his free time, the man played seekers games with Draco again.

Draco couldn’t believe it when he lost, and he was both upset and fascinated by the man.

‘I want a rematch after five minutes!’ Draco demanded, still panting, and he had to ask, ‘Were you on Gryffindor Quidditch team?’

‘Huh?’ The man said halfheartedly as he spelled the snitch so they could play with it again.

‘You said you were Gryffindor, and you are a great flyer.’ Draco said, ‘Just making sure I’m not shagging a Weasley or something. I don’t remember any James Weasley, but there’s so many of them it’s really hard to keep track. You are not a Weasley, are you?’

‘Uh, you have something against the Weasley family?’ The man asked.

‘No. I’m sure Christmas at the burrow beats Christmas at the manor any time. Me and Ronald Weasley, I think we settled. I hold nothing against the family’ Draco shrugged, ‘Well, except for _Weaslett_.’

‘ _Draco_.’ The man warned.

‘Oh, come on! Not you too!’ Draco was not happy, ‘It’s bad enough Potter was head over heels for her. Even Blaise had a crush on her back in the days. Drove Pansy and I crazy.’

‘What’s your problem with her?’ The man asked.

‘She had what I wanted, and she didn’t do him justice, that’s all.’ Draco said, tilting his head, thinking back hard, ‘Really, I don’t remember any James on the team, and I was a good captain and paid close attention to all Quidditch team. Well, except for Hufflepuff. No offence but they really didn’t have any chance.’

‘There wasn’t.’ The man said.

‘ _Why_? Was Oliver Wood _daft_? You are a _great_ flyer.’ Draco couldn’t believe it, ‘And a great seeker.’

‘Well,’ the man said, ‘they had Potter.’

‘You are definitely better.’ Draco defended.

The man laughed: ‘The last time you saw him play was more than a decade ago. It’s not fair to make such a comparison.’

‘No. _You_ should have been Gryffindor’s seeker. He never went through draft, just got specially appointed. You would have beaten him at that.’ Draco insisted. ‘ _I_ will personally buy you a Firebolt if that’s what it takes.’

The man looked up at Draco, his eyes bright and smiling, but he tone hesitant: ‘I’m flattered? You don’t um, you don’t think very highly of Potter’s flying?’

‘He was a decent flyer. I would have died if he wasn’t… if he didn’t decide to save me.’ Draco watched as the man ran his hand along the wooden handle of the Firebolt at Draco’s words, ‘And Potter did win all the matches, even the tampered ones, so I guess no harm no foul —— except for the one against Diggory. But he totally would have won it if the Dementors didn’t interfere.’

‘Um not really. I think Diggory would have won anyway.’

‘ _No_. Potter was ten times the better seeker. Better sports glasses wouldn’t hurt though.’

The man laughed: ‘I wonder how you would give Potter so much credit sometimes, and so little at others. I thought you… love him.’

‘ _Don’t say that!_ ’ Draco pushed the man, and the man pulled Draco to the ground with him, but Draco rolled on top of him, ‘I had a crush on him. I confided in you, you are not supposed to use it against me!’

Then his expression turned mischievous and seductive: ‘I also said I like you better. If I love Potter, what does that make you?’

The man stared at him with those vibrant green eyes of his, but then the golden snitch flew right between them, and soured to the sky. They looked back at each other for a second, then both scrambled to get on their brooms and chased after it.

Draco blamed his second loss on his still sore arse —— the man spent most of his other spare time disciplining Draco, put Draco over his lap or on any surface convenient whenever Draco misbehaved, Draco’s arse was red and sore almost all the time. 

But the man enjoyed it, too much really. The bastard even made him spend time in the corner, bending down a little and lift his dress to put his red arse on display, and when he didn’t think Draco’s posture was compromising enough, the deviant bastard plugged Draco with anal hook and bound the hook and Draco’s hands together, forcing Draco to stick out his arse. Not that Draco didn’t enjoy it. The humiliation was a bit annoying, but the man could barely take his eyes off him, and Draco just loves that.

In fact, Draco loved every second he spent with the man, how the man couldn’t keep his hands off him, how Draco was the only beauty to those emerald eyes, and the way the man awaits for his goodnight kisses on the forehead with glinting innocent eyes like a child.

Not to mention the pain, humiliation, pleasure and care the man provided. The man had trained him with almost everything in the dungeon, how he liked Draco to position himself on the numerous benches and crosses, what he would like Draco to say when they were playing, even down to the details such as what range of movement was acceptable and what would result in added punishment. Draco had enormous fun. 

Draco especially loved it when the man calls him Draco while looking at him with those affectionateness emerald eyes —— but he really shouldn’t associate the man with that word so often.

——

Draco was woken by the sound of someone insistingly and annoyingly tapping at the window.

The man shortened Draco’s chain before sleep, and it wouldn’t let him get off the bed, but Draco’s movement woke the man anyway. The man tugged Draco in tight and pulled on a green sweatshirt and pants before he opened the window, and a condescending looking eagle owl flew in with a gust of cold wind. If the man didn’t have impressive reflexes, that eagle owl would have landed in his hair.

Reasonable, Draco would say. His hair was messy enough to be mistaken as a bird’s nest after a night’s sleep.

Draco snickered, the man shot him a resigned spoiling look, but warned him: ‘You want your spanking before breakfast?’

Draco was about to talk back when he recognised that owl. Not that particular owl, no, but there’s only one person in the world he knew would dress her owl with dark green bow ties.

‘Uh, I think that’s for me —— DON’T TOUCH IT!’

But it was too late, as soon as the man touched that red envelope tied by green bowknot, it burst out fumes, and the sweet threatening voice of Pansy Parkinson poured out: ‘Draco, my dear, you didn’t try to mute my letter again did you? Don’t you want to hear my voice?’

‘Um…’ Even if Draco knew she couldn’t possibly know that, he still felt uneasy.

‘Surprise! I’m coming back for my birthday! Old place old time? Blaise will be there too. Oh, I _look forward_ to seeing you —— It’s been _a while_ since our last reunion. I _sincerely_ hope you got laid more. You could really use the loosen up.’

Draco blushed at that, and the man suppressed a smile.

‘…Anyway, if you don’t show up, I’ll send a few _delicious_ male strippers to whatever party you are planning. See you then!’

The man couldn’t help but laugh at that; then he apologised: ‘Sorry. I thought it might be a late Christmas card.’

‘It’s RED.’ Draco said, ‘Obviously it’s a howler.’

The man shrugged. Then he asked curiously: ‘When are you going? I’ll spare you the day before.’

‘Uh, I’m not going.’ Draco looked down.

‘Why?’ The man was surprised, ‘Sounds like she was a really close friend of yours. Really cared for you. And I wouldn’t put calling stripers beyond her. You might have a lot to lose.’

‘Yeah well, she was tough and mean to others, but all bark and no bite when it comes to people she really cared about.’ Draco shrugged, ‘It’s just that she and Blaise have been doing this dance for years. They were both crazy about each other, but too proud to say anything about it. They would fuck every time Pansy comes back or Blaise visits Paris, and pretend it doesn’t mean anything. Neither was brave enough to offer to move to the other’s city. And every time they want to see each other, they always drag me along as cover. Pansy’s birthday was January the 1st, and she always drags us to the New Year’s count down, pretending everyone was cheering for her birthday. You don’t know what it feels like to third-wheel those two fuckers, listening to them testing whether the other was screwing someone else, pretending not to understand they're flirting, or seeing them sweet in love. And they have the gut to tease me for being single, _all night long_. I swore to myself I’ll never go again.’

‘I know a thing or two about third-wheeling.’ The man bribed the owl with a treat, threw a few warm charms it's way, listened with patience and a small smile, stroked the owl for a second and asked hesitantly, ‘Would you um, would you like to go, you know, if I go with you?’

Draco’s heart stopped at that, and started pondering his chest hard: ‘Um, what?’

The man was rarely this unconfident, almost shy: ‘I mean… you said you didn’t want to go because they were in love. And they tease you for being single. I can go with you. Would that make it better?’

‘You would do that?’ Draco asked, blushing for no reason at all, it’s just his heart was beating so fast, ‘You will have to…’

‘Go as James, yes, I know.’ The man grimaced at that, a tender blush climbing onto his face, ‘I wouldn’t exactly call James a hot date though. You um, you might not like him very…’

‘I would like that.’ Draco said, interrupting the man, ‘I would very much like that.’

The man paused, and smiled at Draco shyly, his emerald eyes sparkling like sunshine dancing on a creek: ‘It’s a date then. I mean —— not a ‘date’ date. But I’m impersonating as your date.’

‘We will pretend we are madly in love.’ Draco said excitedly, the butterflies already swirling in his stomach as he pulled the man back to the bed, smiling as the man slipped his hand up Draco’s dress, ‘And I’ll finally be able to get back at them.’

The man just smiled ever so indulgently.


	15. New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man came as James. Dinner with Pansy and Blaise. New Year with snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again thanks to Mika. She said Draco’s pile of ‘I don’t want to think about how James could be Potter’ is so high that it’s dangerously close to a landslide. So true.

Draco gave Elise a raise as apparently, her job's content expanded to picking out her boss’s dating outfit now.

Thankfully the Ministry cleared Draco’s apartment just the day before —— much to Elise’s belief that it was because they had to go through her boss’s closet. Or a closet room to be precise. After sitting on Draco’s couch for the entire afternoon and a few glasses of wine, she finally managed to help Draco narrow it down to a pale dark green waistcoat with black suit pants and tie and blackish green robe, and a set of cream coloured waistcoat, tie and suit pants.

Elise watched as Draco held the two up for a while, then decided: ‘The cream-coloured one. The pale green one makes you look like ‘young master Malfoy’. If you don’t want to seem too distant, definitely the cream-coloured one —— the snow-white woolen wind coat, and this placid scarf goes perfectly with that, and it will make you look casual when you are all standing in the count down crowd.’

‘Perfect.’ That woman was worth every knut he paid.

‘And I think this would fit very well.’ Elise says as she passed Draco the crimson leather box.

Draco only realised it was the set of golden snitch accessories Potter gave him as Christmas present after he opened it.

It really was an exquisite and elegant set, with the right amount of lively and mischievousness. Draco couldn’t help but ran his thumb over the flapping wings that were trying to get his attention but shook his head: ‘It’s um, it’s present from another man. That man is sort of tangled in our relationship. I don’t think it would be appropriate. I wanted tomorrow to be about him and him only.’

Draco looked up and saw Elise’s funny expression, then laughed a little: ‘No. not like that. I didn’t cheat on anyone. It’s… complicated. I had a crush on that man, and he knows it.’

And this set of accessories was worn by Potter. It felt too intimate for him to wear them.

Elise smiled apologetically, then passed Draco another set of silver accessories with engravings of narcissus including a hair ring, and suggested: ‘You want to surprise him? Maybe you should take a hair growing potion and wear your hair long. You would look stunning.’

Draco picked up the delicate narcissus flower hair ring, smiled as it slowly dangled its petals, rolling the diamond dew: ‘I might just do that.’

——

They made a plan for the man to drop by his apartment, to get their story straight, and then side-along to the restaurant.

Ten minutes before their scheduled time, Draco was looking out his window, guessing which man that walked past would be the man. His heart tensed at a few men of similar build, but he almost always realised it’s not the man instantly. Then, he saw _him_.

He could have been sitting on the bench by the tree for a while, but probably had a notice-me-not charm cast, and frankly, he wasn’t the kind to stand out in a crowd —— he was only moderately good-looking, not exactly handsome but had a face that people would feel comfortable looking at forever. He had dark brown hair that was almost black if it weren’t for the bright sunshine of the afternoon, messy in a cute way, and common brown eyes framed by a pair of gold-rimmed square spectacles. He was wearing khaki woolen wind coat, brown suit pants and coffee scarf, made him look like a mild gentleman, proper but humble. Since there were still a few minutes till their scheduled time, there was no rush for him, and he was watching the traffic with joyful lights dancing in his eyes and drinking from one of the two coffee cups in his hands.

Draco’s heart leapt when he saw him. Despite the nervous expression was something that he had never seen on the man, he just knew that it must be him.

When the man stood up, Draco left the window and checked himself in the mirror for one last time, pulled his queue over his left shoulder before he took a deep breath and answered the door.

The man looked surprised when he saw Draco, his eyes lit up and whatever he was about to say forgotten.

That fed right into Draco’s vanity.

‘So,’ Draco said, ‘This is what you look like.’

The man hesitated, then answered: ‘This is the face I usually wear when I’m not at work, yes.’

Draco laughed a little at the man’s weird sense of humour; the man was somehow too nervous to laugh.

Up close, the man actually looked familiar, maybe Draco did see him before back in Hogwarts —— No. It’s not that. The man actually looked a lot like Potter, just a minor difference here and there, and it looked like a different man entirely if one didn’t look close.

‘Have anyone ever told you… you actually look a lot like Potter?’ Draco couldn’t help but ask.

‘Yes.’ The man wasn’t offended, just answered, ‘It’s how I got into the business —— someone told me I had high resemblance with Potter.’

That… actually made sense.

Then the man just stood at the doorway quiet and quite awkwardly, Draco had to give him an out by pointing at the coffee cups: ‘One of them for me?’

‘Uh, yes.’ The man said, passing the cup to Draco, almost splashing one in the process.

Draco was more than amused, and took a step back to let the man in: ‘Welcome to the humble apartment of Draco Malfoy, James…?’

The man closed the door behind him, the chain lock fell off, and he instinctively and clumsily tried to catch it before realising there’s no need for that, blushed and seemed rather embarrassed. By then, he had missed Draco’s question, and went back to staring at Draco.

‘James.’ Draco called, but the man didn’t answer him, he had to call again, ‘James.’

‘Huh? Pardon me.’ The man shook out of his dazed state.

‘Your last name.’ Draco kindly supplied, ‘Since we are pretending to be in love, I should at least know your last name.’

‘…Um.’ The man said, hesitating, ‘Evans?’

‘What?’ Draco laughed, ‘You forgot your own name?’

‘When I saw you, yes. If you don’t like it, it wouldn’t be my name. Write it on a paper, and I would tear it to a million pieces.’ The man said, blushing and looking down at the back of his hand, then back at Draco as if he couldn’t help himself, his eyes honest and dazzled, ‘You look… _Ravishing_.’

Draco blushed a little at that: ‘Glib.’

‘No I… I meant it.’ The man rushed to explain, ‘You really are the most… the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.’

Draco’s blush developed: ‘I’m not… I was just… trying not to seem conceit. But, thank you.’

He blushed even worse.

‘Sorry.’ The man lowered his head, fell silent for a second, then got up his courage, and said with a blush and suppressed sadness, ‘I’ll have to say… Outside the dungeon, I am awkward. I’ll um; I’ll understand if you decide our relationship should stay in there after today.’

He looked up at Draco with his head tilted and through his long thick eyelashes, and Draco’s heart just _melted_.

‘What, you can only be cool when you are playing the Saviour?’ Draco teased, ‘Relax, really. I uh, I find it kind of cute.’

The man’s smile was so bright but sheepish at that.

Draco invited him to sit down and talk for a while, and the man sat quite rigidly, carefully kept his distance and fidgeting the coffee cup while he listened and answered Draco’s questions.

Draco was extremely amused: the man seemed so confident and ruthless when he was dominating, and they were still the same people, he could put Draco over his lap right now, and Draco would comply, but he seemed so shy and cautious, even blushed when Draco deliberately leaned in closer and smiled.

Seriously, the man had seen him naked a dozen times by now, and he never blushed.

Draco could feel he has devil horns and tail now.

What can he say, the man was just _begging_ to be teased.

——

When Draco deemed they can fool pansy, the man was hiding his half-hard cock behind the coffee cup, and they were almost late for dinner.

If they weren’t, Draco could tell the man was about to switch back to the Dom mode.

Pansy and Blaise looked like they are perfectly fine without them anyway. Pansy wore a simple but elegant black dress, of the latest fashion no doubt, complimented her curves perfectly, and Blaise looked like he very much wanted to slip his hand up that dress, despite looking like a gentleman with his dark green suit and tie.

If anything, they looked disappointed when Draco showed up.

‘You see what I have to put up with?’ Draco whispered to the man’s ear, deliberately blowing warm breath into it, and the man blushed at that.

Of course, their demeanour changed when they saw Draco pull the man out from behind him, and introduced with mirth dancing in his eyes: ‘My best friends, Pansy and Blaise. Pansy, Blaise, this is my boyfriend, James.’

The man blushed even more, and looked to Draco with those cute wet doe eyes at Draco’s use of the word ‘boyfriend’.

The two looked like they couldn’t care less about each other right now, Blaise at the peak of his curiosity, smiled as he tilted his head and observed everything about James, Pansy at the verge of her protective mode, narrowed her eyes as she said with her sugar voice: ‘James, is it?’

‘Yes, Ms. Parkinson,’ the man said with an appropriate smile, ‘It’s a pleasure to see you again.’

‘What happened to Goyle? I told him to drop by for his favourite steak.’ Draco tried to divert, ‘Lost his way and ended up in Scotland again?’

‘No.’ Pansy broke into a smile, ‘Mille had just given birth to, unfortunately, an ugly boy. But, he’s a proud father nonetheless. Wanted to help Mille as much as possible so she can rest and recover.’

‘He’s really a family man now. Remind me to send some diapers later.’ Draco sighed, ‘He picked a name for the unfortunate little menace yet?’

‘Yes.’ Pansy said softly, ‘Vincent.’

And for a moment there, they were silent, until Pansy asked quietly: ‘Do you still think of him?’

Draco didn’t say anything, and the waiter interrupted at that moment to hand out the menu. Draco hid his face behind it, couldn’t really read a word.

Of course he did. Probably the only one aside from Goyle that still visits Vincent Crabbe’s grave since his father was imprisoned and his mother died three years ago. He and Goyle were loyal friend of his for many years, and Draco had always felt responsible for Crabbe’s death as he didn’t steer him to the right way.

As if felt his distress, the man pushed something from behind the menu in front of Draco. Draco looked up and saw it was a napkin folded into a crane, and he couldn’t help but looked up and smiled at the man. The man of course, blushed and smiled back.

——

Draco loved Pansy, but that girl was a mean bitch. Something about James provoked her, and for the entire lunch, she stabbed questions at the man, asking him everything from his family, his life, to his financials.

Draco answered a few questions for the man to show he knew a lot about him so as to convince Pansy they had been dating for a while: both parents deceased, did’t have a good relationship with his foster family, left as soon as he reached legal age, only exchange a few letters with his foster brother who had redeemed. Favorite sport was Quidditch of course, and he enjoyed muggle movies very much.

Draco’s heart tensed a little when Pansy asked the man what he did for a living. The man answered he worked as a bartender at a club, and Pansy reached to pull out the crimson silk tie the man was wearing: ‘That, my dear, is a hundred Galleon tie, and a colour I know for a fact Draco would never buy for his boyfriend. If you really just work at a club, you wouldn’t be able to afford it.’

Huh. Draco had never thought about that. The man did charge him a fortune, but that dress was not just expensive, he would have to be able to pull some strings to buy it.

The man smiled with ease: ‘Well, you caught me Ms. Parkinson. I guess you could say I’m the owner of the club, save for a few shares to a few friends of mine. I mean, I do have the decisive power.’

Draco stopped and looked up at the man: ‘Really? You never told me that.’

So, not just a sadist that worked in a dungeon, but a sadist that designed and ran the dungeon, the master of the dungeon of requirement.

‘I uh, don’t want you to think any worse of me.’ The man said shyly.

He was talking about —— No. Does this mean he took Draco on as a client on purpose? Because he had a Dom crush on Draco back in the school? That’s actually —— hot.

Draco immediately felt naughty, he would toe off his shoe, but the man was sitting right next to him, so he settled for holding the man’s gaze and bit his fork, swirled his tongue a little, showing the pink tip of his tongue for just a moment, obscure enough neither Pansy nor Blaise picked up on it, but he knew the man would pick up on it, and yes, his eyes darkened at that.

‘On the upside, you need a deep pocket to entertain that brat.’ Blaise was teasing.

‘Excuse me.’ Draco just said with a smile and left for the restroom.

The man must have known following Draco would seem too obvious, but he did it anyway, pulled a smirking Draco into one of the stalls roughly, the moment he pushed Draco onto the door, his expression changed back to the confident and controlling Dom, making Draco shudder just by the Dom tone in his voice: ‘Someone’s getting naughty.’

But the tip of his ears were still red, and Draco felt ballsy, he leaned in to whisper in the man’s ear: ‘You want to do something about it?’

‘Yes.’ The man’s eyes burned bright, then pulled the box of silver balls out of his pocket, ‘I got a feeling this may come in handy.’

He put three balls inside Draco, not enough to cause any inconvenience as long as they stay still, only enough to be a warning, he directed them to roll deep in and almost drawn out a few times before making them vibrate and left with a wicked smile on his face: ‘Enjoy my pet, I’ll tell them to hold the dessert.’

Draco went weak at his knees and had to sit down and clad his hand over his mouth to stop himself from moaning. It was arousing, but it was also annoyingly unsatisfactory, as the balls were too small to tip him over the edge.

Maybe the man wanted his friends to know what they were doing, as the stimulation lasted quite a while, Draco had to splash some cold water on his face and hope the flush will subside. But as he went back to the table, Draco changed his mind, maybe the man just forgot, as Pansy had just stabbed her fork millimetres away from the man’s hand and smiled her vicious bitch smile, saying something to the man.

The man had his serious Dom face on, and this time Draco was within earshot: ‘I am. I will.’

Draco’s heart leapt at his words, involuntarily thought about the possibility. Pansy saw him and casually pulling her fork away, concealing what she had just done, then smiled innocently at Draco: ‘Draco! We were just catching up about school.’

Draco was surprised: ‘You know James back in school?’

‘Of course! Who didn’t!’ Pansy said with a weird tone, while the man looked tense and resigned, ‘I just didn’t recognise him at first. After all, he looked a bit different since school.’

‘Really? I can’t remember a thing about him from that time.’ Draco was intrigued, ‘How did you know him?’

‘Oh, the way he looked at you.’ Pansy smiled, leering at the man, ‘Like he couldn’t keep his hands to himself, punching you or touching you, I’m not sure. How about you, honey, you remember James, don’t you?’

‘Me? Er, I think I saw him in Hogsmead a few times.’ Blaise was cued by surprise, normally Draco wouldn’t have believed him, because he would say the earth is flat if that pleases Pansy, but what he said sounded real, ‘but back then he kind of, _blended with the environment_. Made him hard to be noticed. So don’t blame yourself?’

The man looked to Draco tentatively, then sighed as Draco smiled mischievously.

‘I can’t see what you saw in him anyway.’ Pansy narrowed her eyes again, ‘It’s not like he was devilishly good looking.’

‘Really?’ Draco said, smiling at the man, ‘He looked shining in my eyes.’

The man blushed hard as Pansy ‘Ugh’ed and the waiter served the last dessert.

‘Chocolate orange cream cup.’ Pansy said to Draco with a disgusted expression, ‘Your favourite. Hopefully, it can shut you up.’

Draco smiled as he took a sip of his wine.

Before he gets to the dessert though, he saw the man blending the chocolate and the orange cream together, but he had the wine glass to his mouth and was too late to stop him. Both Pansy and Blaise couldn’t help but showed a trace of contempt.

Draco just put down his glass, picked up his own spoon and blended his cup.

Pansy watched with a shocking expression, and when she finally speaks, it was just a whisper: ‘You really got it bad for him, don’t you?’

Draco didn’t say anything, just smiled looking down at the mess in his cup.

Merlin was he in love with the man.

——

They finished the rest of the dinner in peace, as Pansy suddenly lost interest in tormenting the man, then they apparated to the Big Ben for the count down and celebration of the new year.

Crowded and pushed by the crowd, Pansy was the happy bird she always was on New Year’s Eve, she kept looking to Blaise sharing every unimportant surprise, and Blaise’s eyes could see nothing but the smile on her face.

Draco just wonders how they didn’t know they were crazy about each other.

However, the man didn’t seem affected by the holiday spirit, Draco brushed elbows with him, and asked as quiet as the man can hear him: ‘You have something against New Year?’

The man smiled hesitantly and shook his head: ‘Um, no. I apologise. I just never… never much got the idea of how everyone seemed to think this could mean a new start.’

Draco understood immediately.

His childhood had its problems, but it’s nothing compared with the man. He could imagine the man as a little boy, hoping year after year that change would happen, that there’s some kind of new beginning. This day must have failed him so many times that he’s petrified to its hopefulness and joyfulness.

The air was freezing cold that night, Draco cast a warming charm as he took the man’s hand in his, smiling as the first snowflake touched his platinum hair: ‘How’s this for a new start?’

No longer assuming the identity of the Dom, the man was vulnerable to the charms of Draco Malfoy. Not to mention, this was a Draco he had never seen before, no longer confined in the setting of a dungeon or bedroom, naked or indecent, and definitely not the mean bratty bully he used to be. He was standing there, decent, kind and beautiful, and the man just couldn’t look away.

Somewhere in the background, people started counting down: ‘Three ——’

The cold and him initiating the hold-hand painted Draco’s cheeks a lovely pink, and he was smiling timidly, the last snow of the past year was falling fast, soon ladened his hair and eyelashes with shining snowflakes.

‘Two ——’

Draco looked up to the giant clock, breathed out, and a cloud of white fog left his pale pink lips.

‘One ——’

Before the mist dissipated, the man was kissing Draco, the clock then struck midnight, and the crowd was cheering, and Draco could feel the man’s arms holding him, his chocolate-sweet lips and tongue pulling Draco deep into the kiss, and everything else in the world —— everything else in the world disappeared.

‘Happy new year.’ The man smiled so brightly that all the artificial lights and stars shy away.

And so Draco kissed back.


	16. Offering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally they have sex. And they talked. And Draco got gift for New Year too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Mika.  
> I apologise what happens next is not exactly moral, but believe me there is good reason.

‘You want… you want to get out of here?’

Draco asked millimetres from the man’s lips, and the man smiled and kissed him again: ‘Of course.’

‘Your place.’ Draco said with definite, ‘You’ve already been inside mine and it’s only fair you let me see yours.’

The man hesitated at that, then said: ‘How do you feel about a little breaking and entering?’

——

Maybe he was tipsy; maybe he was overwhelmed by an aroused Draco in his arms, the man apparated them to somewhere behind a hydrangea bush and under a window, with Draco on top of him.

Draco laughed as he pushed himself up and at the man as he stood up and tried to shake all the snow from his hair like a big dog, laughing too. Draco looked around and found themselves in a muggle neighborhood; he immediately realised this must be where the man grew up. At first glance, this looked like a nice neighborhood, with neat rows of little brown houses, the garden they were in looked quite well kept except for the mess they just made.

But something didn’t feel right.

Before Draco could figure out what, the man pulled him back into his embrace, kissing him passionately as they made their way to the back door.

Something else again changed with the man, but Draco was not sure what, just heard the man spoke hoarsely by his ear as he pushed Draco’s hair out of his face, buried his fingers into the soft locks and rubbed his thumb over Draco’s cheek roughly: ‘You always put out on your first date Malfoy?’

‘Uh, actually, never.’ Draco said as he tugged at the man’s scarf, his voice tensing a little, ‘Like, _never_.’

The man got Draco’s scarf and wind coat open as he pushed Draco into the door, he kissed down Draco’s neck and spelled the door unlocked before he suddenly realised what Draco meant, and he was off Draco immediately: ‘Er, you sure about this?’

Draco shivered at the sudden cold, but his voice was steady: ‘Yes.’

‘I might… I might not be the right person to…’, and the man was back to his awkward self, blushing as he ran his hand through his messy hair, ‘Merlin I’m so sorry, I totally forgot… I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t.’

‘I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.’ Draco said, reaching to take the man’s face in his hands.

‘You don’t really know me that well.’

‘I know enough.’

The man closed his eyes at that; then he said: ‘This may sound weird but… remember you said at Christmas, that you want Harry Potter to… fuck you senseless one day?’

Draco was confused: ‘What about that? Seriously, why are you bringing that up now?’

‘I can do it today.’ The man said, opened his eyes but kept his eyes at the back of his hand.

‘What,’ Draco felt ridiculous, ‘is that… some kind of thing for you?’

‘…Yes.’

‘No other option?’

‘No.’

The man was a seriously bothered individual. But maybe… maybe it’s because he had such an abused childhood, that only the identity of the Great Saviour made him feel safe and confident enough. And it’s not like Draco was against role play. Maybe it’s not perfect, but Draco couldn’t just stop right now.

‘Fine.’ Draco conceded, ‘So um, how do we do this?’

In the dungeon, the man always made it clear where the boundaries were, enter a door and Draco should be naked and on his knees and things like that. Here, Draco was not sure.

‘Outside of a D/s scene —— I am capable of that.’ The man said, frowning like he was blaming himself, then he looked up at Draco with those innocent doe eyes of his, hoping Draco would stop him, ‘But… I can’t say I can be very gentle. Not the best person to lose your virginity to, I’m afraid. Are you sure…’

‘Oh for Merlin’s sake just fuck me already! It’s not like I have hymen or anything, and even that shouldn’t matter. Virginity is overrated anyway.’ Draco pulled the man back against him; his half-hard cock rubbed against the man’s shamelessly, ‘I can handle your roughness. I’m not going to scream for rape afterwards if that’s what you are afraid of.’

The man hesitated, then finally gave up and said: ‘One more thing —— “James” is still your safe word, I don’t want you to get confused over that. Don’t call me by that name unless you want me to stop.’

‘Fine.’

The man looked at Draco for one last time, wiped his hand over his face, and the glamour was there, he was again the handsome green-eyed man named Harry Potter, his emerald eyes shone so brightly from the moonlight reflected from the snow as if a predatory wolf. Draco wouldn’t admit, but his heart leapt at that, and he wouldn’t think about it, just leaned in for another kiss, the man kissed him back feverishly, picked him up, wound Draco’s legs around his waist and kicked open the door.

They left a trail of clothes on their way up the stairs, and every heated kiss and rough touch of the man made Draco burn. The man was an _animal_ , he did every kiss and touch with zealous, before Draco was again pushed to the door of presumably the man’s room, his neck was already marked by quite a few hickeys and love bites.

Not that Draco didn’t like it. The heat and arousal quickly fried his brain. He couldn’t have felt the full force of how much Harry wanted him another way, and he especially liked it when Harry said by his ears: ‘Say you want to be my bitch.’

Then he bit down and pulled at Draco’s earlobe.

Draco moaned out loud and didn’t respond at first, so then Harry pulled down his pants and slapped his arse hard: ‘Say it.’

As he bit down on Draco’s clavicle, Draco groaned out: ‘I want to be your bitch.’

Harry slapped his arse again: ‘Say it again.’

‘I want to be your bitch.’

By this point Harry had stripped Draco down to his shirt, he picked Draco up again, carried him inside, and cast a cleaning spell on the single bed before throwing Draco onto it. The bed was kind of small, and the room lacked the space to enlarge it by charm, but Draco wasn’t complaining, if anything, he was excited to be on Harry’s childhood bed, he wanted to have a good look at it, but Harry almost brutally pulled Draco’s legs apart, positioned himself between Draco’s legs as he demanded again: ‘ _Again_.’

‘I want to be your bitch!’ Draco almost screamed, ‘Please, Harry, please. I want you, please…’

Harry ran his finger down the front of Draco’s shirt, and it was unbuttoned, he kissed a trail to Draco’s left nipple, pressed his tongue flat over it, licked at it then sucked it into his mouth, bit and milked it as if he were trying to drink from it, all the while making those shameful wet noises.

Draco felt his face burn hot at that: ‘Merlin you are _vulgar_.’

Harry chuckled, left the swollen pink nipple and kissed further down to Draco’s groin, nudged at Draco’s hard cock with his cheek, giving it a few dirty teasing licks as he answered: ‘I’ve been told I would end up in a juvenile borstal institution. In fact, that’s what they told other people after I went to Hogwarts. But, pretty thing, you haven’t seen half of it yet.’

Draco had bucked his hips a few times, hoping to get his cock down the man’s velvet throat, but the man deliberately avoided that, instead, he pulled Draco’s legs up, parted Draco’s arse cheeks with his thumbs and licked at Draco’s arsehole.

Draco moaned and tensed as if shocked by electricity, and Harry doing something like this to him was beyond his imagination, he almost immediately reached to stop Harry, but Harry held him firmly in place: ‘No, sweetie, hold your legs in place for me.’

Draco could barely grab his knees when the man pulled the three balls out of him and stuck his tongue into Draco’s hole just as Draco was clenching and sucking in reflectively, the feeling of having a tongue inside him was greatly different when it was some lifeless toy or just the fingers, and Merlin that tongue was strong and lively twisting and licking inside him in the most dirty and arousing way possible.

If Harry was sorry for playing with Draco before knowing he had no experience and for the upcoming brutal first time, he was saying a beautiful apology to Draco’s arsehole. It was just so good. Too good —— too good. It was as if he could taste the most delicious sweet and sour candy with his arsehole, and he was so greedy he couldn’t get enough.

Draco could finally put his finger on what the earlier difference was now —— Harry as himself in the sack, was a brutal beast and an obscene ribald, different from the calm and authoritative Dom, the awkward but cute admirer, as if the sole purpose he existed was to defile Draco, as a lowlife rascal would do to the proud posh little prince, not care if it would cost him his life, just pull the prince down from the altar and worship him in the dirtiest way possible.

All rational thought and sense of shame gone without a trace, and Draco was begging for more: ‘Please —— please please please… so good. So, so good.’

Harry chuckled as he pulled out his tongue, the three balls rolling back into Draco again, opening up a way for Harry’s tongue to go deeper than last time, and Harry was fucking Draco with his tongue, Draco moaned so loud that the neighbors definitely heard him.

‘You make the most beautiful and slutty sounds.’ Harry said as he pulled his tongue and the balls out before Draco could cum, kissing, sucking and biting at Draco’s flawless inner thigh as he lazily waits for the wave to flow over and left Draco trembling in want.

‘You want me to fuck you?’ He said as he raised himself back up, pushed a stray strand from Draco’s face.

‘Yes, please.’ Draco was almost desperate.

‘Then turn over, hold your cheeks for me, will you?’ Harry smiled as he kissed Draco’s forehead heavily.

Draco did as he was told, raised his arse up high, parted his arse cheeks and revealed his bright pink, shining wet hole, then felt Harry’s heavy cock line up, with no further preparation or lubricant. Draco panicked for a moment and felt Harry holding him down by the back of his neck: ‘Easy my pet; we have been playing for a while now, you must know you can take me right? Don’t you want a little pain? To feel me splitting you open, even days after? And you know I want it, I want to feel your tight virgin hole sucking my cock, even in pain, because that’s how good you are as my bitch, no?’

Merlin, add a few tattoos he could easily pass as a gangster with this level of roughness, but Draco was more than aroused, the urge to comply and please bubbling inside him just like a college girl seduced by her corrupt Romeo and so willingly sacrifice her virginity. He whimpered and stopped fighting, then Harry was forcing himself inside Draco, there was the pain of stretching alright, it felt so big and heavy against his vulnerable hole, but the feeling of Harry slamming into his prostate and his walls clenching around Harry’s cock was so distinct that Draco almost came right then and there, and yet he wanted it to last, wanted to be even better when it really came, Harry must have noticed his effort, as he leaned down and kissed Draco’s shoulder and praised him: ‘Good pet. Yes. Wait for me. We will have the most delicious orgasm together.’

The praise had Draco clawing the sheet, whimpered again as he tried to suppress another surge of intense pleasure that threatened to tip him over the edge.

But Harry wasn’t going to take pity on him, as he started fucking Draco, not ruthlessly hard, no, but just the right rhythm to drive Draco crazy, gave him sweet friction but ignored his prostate till Draco was pushing back in desperation, hit just at the right time that sent Draco into ecstasy, then back to the unsatisfying torture, then he hit right on the spot hard and repeatedly that the pleasure hit Draco almost painfully, pushing him all the way to near orgasm, then the bastard _pulled his cock out_.

‘No! Please I…’ Draco was so close, he looked back with glossy eyes only to see Harry smiled devilishly then put his mouth back on Draco’s hole.

The tongue more than delicious to Draco’s arsehole, but after the greedy little hole had a taste of Harry’s cock, it wanted that to get to a more intense orgasm. It shamelessly opened up and sucked in the tongue for the sweet sensation, but it still wanted more, making wet noise as it clenched and spasmed, as if an enchantress whispering in coquetry begging for the cock.

And Harry definitely understood it, he gave it a few more moments of tongue fucking, squeezed Draco’s arse and bit at the bubbly flesh, then his cock slammed all the way in again, making Draco scream.

This time they both know there’s just no way they can last long, and Draco’s hole was slick enough for Harry to fuck all the way in and out brutally. Not long and Draco was seeing stars, he felt the pleasure making him tense up and meltdown at the same time, the only thing supporting him was Harry’s hands on his hips, when the orgasm came, it hit him like a tsunami, washed over him, breaking him as Harry’s cum shot deep into him.

Harry thrust lightly through Draco’s orgasm, pulled out as their orgasm fully subsided. A bit of cum leaked with his motion of pulling out, shining the evil pearlescent glisten at the swollen red pucker. It was pretty, and somehow delicious.

It was the first time Draco was ever fucked, he had always imagined he would be too sore for anymore after it, especially as Harry fucked him so hard, but it just felt it didn’t get enough, it wasn’t satisfied.

Neither was Harry.

He held Draco in his arms, kissed him everywhere in consolation over the meaningless virginity loss, but soon he had one finger thrust back inside, playing and pulling at the softened and heated but still tight hole.

He kissed him gently this time, but no less embarrassing as he pushed himself back up, took Draco’s right ankle in his hand and started kissing up from his delicate toe, his profile devout in the silver-blue moonlight, as if Draco wasn’t what he called his bitch that he just fucked and had his arsehole filled with his cum, but something he cherished and worshipped.

Draco was trembling as his mouth moved up his inner thigh, dreading but also looking forward to what was inevitable.

He got his fucked, swollen arsehole licked and sucked again, this time even more brutal, he could feel Harry eating his arse out, cleaning it of every last drop of his own cum, dragging his sharp canine over the sensitive flesh, even nipped and pulled at it.

Draco couldn’t help but locked his thighs around Harry’s head, his fingers buried in and pulled at that messy black hair, Harry groaned at the pain, slapped Draco’s arse and thrust his tongue deeper into his hole, fucking faster as retaliation.

Merlin that was tongue was driving Draco crazy, and there’s that cock.

There seemed to be an endless alternation between the two that night, Draco was fucked till his arsehole was rosy and swollen, Harry’s cum filled to the brim, sensitive to even the slightest blow of air, and the last orgasm of his, his shot nothing and had it dry, it ripped through him so pleasantly and painfully that he passed out the moment it left him alone.

The only thing he remembered was Harry kissing him on his lips as the first light of dawn shone through, his silhouette golden and magnificent, and smiling in content.

——

The delicious smell from downstairs woke Draco.

He was absolutely famished, but he was also sore in every muscle and couldn’t persuade his body to open his eyes, let alone go get something to eat.

Luckily, the smell of the delicious food became stronger and stronger as the man entered the door and the mattress sank, then Draco felt a kiss to his forehead: ‘Morning sunshine. How are you feeling? Want some late breakfast?’

Draco finally won his fight against sandman and sat up as he complained: ‘Merlin I feel like a herd of Erumpent stumped over me. You?’

The man laughed, ran his hand through his brown hair and said with a sigh: ‘Like I’ve been cuckolding myself?’

Draco laughed and looked to the breakfast tray in the man’s hand; it had pancakes, french toast, bacon and eggs, an omelette, a cup of milk and a cup of orange juice on it.

‘I’m not sure what you want, so I made a little of everything.’ The man said, ‘Eat whatever you want, I’ll have the rest.’

‘ _You made all of these?_ ’ Draco said with widened eyes, ‘Merlin you weren’t kidding when you said you could pass as a house elf.’

The man just smiled and sat on the bed across from Draco, Draco took the milk first as he was parched, and asked what was on his mind: ‘Is this… is this your foster home?’

‘Yes.’ The man said as he cut the pancakes, presumably for Draco, ‘Dudley got married and settled in a different state, and Vernon put in a request of transfer so he and Petunia can be closer to him. I thought we should drop by and see it before it’s sold.’

‘This was your room?’ Draco looked around for the first time he was here, arched his brow at the headless robot and the teddy bear with missing limbs in the corner, ‘You were a psychopath from a young age?’

The man looked in the same direction and laughed: ‘No. Those weren’t mine. This used to be Dudley’s toy room before I moved in. Petunia tried to move all of his old toys into my cupboard but failed. So a few of them stayed with me.’

Draco stilled, then looked up slowly at the man: ‘Your cupboard?’

‘Um, what?’ The man tried to pass it off by forking a piece of pancake and feeding it to Draco with a distracting smile, ‘I highly recommend the pancakes. I’ve been told I make killer blueberry pancakes.’

‘You said, your cupboard.’ But Draco wasn’t going to let it slide, insisted then he realised, ‘They made you sleep in a fucking _cupboard_?!’

The man sighed, put down the fork and answered: ‘Yes. Back then, I was small, so it was enough space for me. They moved me up here after Hogwarts sent me admission letters with the cupboard listed as my address.’

‘Oh, _hell_.’

Draco was furious, he jumped off the bed almost fell to the ground as his legs couldn’t support him very well, the man tried to save him, but Draco pushed him away and went straight to that cupboard under the stairs.

It was small, so small that a grown man wouldn’t fit, and as Draco placed his hand on the door, traced back the magic, he could feel the memories left behind there: the fearful darkness and loneliness when locked inside with no other company than the spiders, the fear that shot through as the heavy boy jumped above the cupboard and as the large fat hand of the obese man reaching in and grabbing for him, the pain after the punishment and the even more painful longing for something good and unknown to happen and for someone who cares.

Draco was trembling as he felt the warm embrace of the man, holding him tight, taking his hand off the doorknob and shushing lightly: ‘Shh… don’t cry. It’s alright. It’s all passed.’

Draco didn’t even realise tears had fallen.

‘I hate them.’ He said.

‘Okay.’ The man answered.

‘They should rot in prison.’ Draco added, ‘Or better yet, they should burn in hell.’

‘Okay.’ The man kissed by Draco’s ear lightly, suppressing a smile, and when Draco looked at him angrily questioning if he had gone mental with his glare, he just broke into that bright smile and picked Draco up, ‘You are too cute for your own good —— go eat sweetheart, then I’ll fuck you again.’

Draco growled, but he really was hungry, so he let the man carry him back up the stairs again, and took the man’s offering as he fed the pancake to him.

Then his eyes lit up, and the man smiled.

——

‘Merlin your cooking is _divine_.’ Draco said as fell back on to the pillow after the man fed him two pancakes, a French toast, half of the omelette and bacon and eggs, ‘Is there any way I can keep you?’

The man laughed a little, then said: ‘About that —— I do have something for you. Consider it New Year’s present.’

He said as he summoned a black velvet box the size of a ring box, Draco’s heart tensed a moment, but he scolded himself as the man lifted the shrinking charm and restored it back to the size of a violin case.

Draco looked up at the man, and he encouraged: ‘Go ahead. Open it.’

And so Draco did.

The stunning shine of diamonds and emeralds poured out, as inside lay an entire set, pieces of jewellery including pear-shaped pendant earrings, bracelets, anklets, silver chains, an extra set of pendants, something else, and a three-inch wide collar that was delicately designed and could pass as a simple necklace to those, not in the know. The design was elegant and exquisite, the diamonds clear and flawless, emeralds so green it reminded him of… and Draco was as much as a treasure hoarder as his name, and the jewellery immediately won his heart.

‘Wha…’ Draco was enchanted, ‘This is… Merlin this is beautiful. Just, um, why are there two pairs of earrings? And what’s that?’

The man was somehow nervous, back to his awkward self again: ‘Er, because that pair is nipple clamps. And that is cock cage. There’s a second layer for crystal anal and urinal plugs.’

‘You gave me toys made of _gems_?’ Draco was amazed, ‘This must cost a fortune. Why?’

‘Er, it’s a custom, that Dom gives their chosen sub a collar as a gift as a symbol of their claim, the more expensive the collar, the more cherished the sub.’ The man said, smiling nervously, ‘I wanted it to be symbolic, so I had this made for you, costs everything you’ve ever paid me… and then some.’

Draco was at a loss of words.

‘You can, of course, decline.’ The man quickly added, ‘This wasn’t to push you into anything you don’t want to…’

‘Yes.’

‘Uh?’

‘Yes.’ Draco repeated as he threw himself at the man, ‘Yes, anything and everything for you, just, yes.’

The man held back tight.


	17. Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Pansy was a good friend. And everyone got on the train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while.  
> And again sorry for what’s about to happen. Still, I want to say Harry had his reasons.  
> Love you all for bearing with me.  
> Also sorry about Ginny. Didn’t want to make her the bad guy but it just happened.

‘What the fuck Draco?’

Pansy almost hexed Draco when he emerged from Blaise’s floo just as she walked into the living room wearing only Blaise’s shirt.

‘Oh, relax.’ Draco complained, ‘It’s not like I don’t know you and Blaise fuck every chance you get.’

‘Well, get lost!’ Pansy shouted as she patted to the kitchen island with her dainty feet painted with black nail polish, ‘I’m not interested in _how sweet he was for your first night_ ,’

Draco’s thoughts strayed away —— He really was very sweet to Draco that night, brutal but paid every care necessary with that magical tongue of his. Later he did clean up, made breakfast, and when Draco complained about being too sore after another round, he gave Draco an oil massage.

‘Or the dates you went on,’

——They’ve been dating for a while now. The man was more of an indoor cat, they spent most of their time in the dungeon, playing seekers game, watching muggle tv series, and of course playing scenes and having sex. One little hitch was that the man was really awkward and uncomfortable as himself, so Draco let him stay being the Saviour. The man did go as himself when they went out on dates, as the face of the Saviour had its drawbacks. Not the expensive restaurant kind, but the less famous but delicious little restaurants where they can sit with their legs locked and eat from the other’s plate. They managed to hit a few museums and art galleries too, even went to a muggle movie together, popcorns and sodas and all, it was really interesting.

‘Or any detail of your deviant sex life,’

——Sex after that was also _great._ The first scene the man and Draco played, the man only took him after Draco had cum, the sensation of being fucked by that heavy cock when Draco was overstimulated and his cock unresponsive, taught Draco the lesson the man intended to: ‘It will always be about my pleasure. You can enjoy yourself, but always keep in mind you are to be used as I please, you exist for my pleasure, and my pleasure only.’

And Draco found pleasure indeed, pure psychological pleasure, just by serve and to be used by the man, and he couldn’t stop himself from shaking in ecstasy.

‘Or pick your dating outfit.’ Pansy said as she waved her wand and cooked some oatmeal for herself, ‘Go bully poor Elise. That girl could use some overtime and your gold.’

Draco threw himself into the sofa, perched his feet on the tea table and said: ‘No. It’s about… it’s about Potter.’

Pansy stopped pouring the milk abruptly and looked up: ‘I’m listening.’

‘I got an offer today to plan the ten-year memorial of the war of Hogwarts, that’s like… I don’t know. Everyone wants to plan it to make a name of themselves, and there’s that sentiment…’ Draco rubbed at his temple, ‘I’m not sure I can do it. When I asked why me, they told me because Potter had a high evaluation for the Yule Ball I planned, and he completely trusts me with his security details. That’s just him. He didn’t really need to do anything, just one wrong word and the whole world would move to try to cater to him.’

‘Morgana I can’t believe it.’ Pansy huffed, abandoned her oatmeal and went to pour herself a cup of Whiskey, ‘If you don’t want to do it, just go cry to your fucking boyfriend. I’m sure he can move the world for you.’

‘So early in the morning? It’s barely ten o’clock.’ Draco whined, ‘And I can’t just go talk to my boyfriend about my crush.’

‘Oh, I’m sure he will love it.’ Pansy said sarcastically, taking a big gulp, ‘And I need this because you barged in early in the morning and scared me half to death —— _wait did you just call Potter your crush_?’

‘Um…’

‘Morgana I’ve always wondered what could get you to admit that, poor Potter, suffered through all that just because you are an emotional imbecile… but he definitely deserved it, thinking back about it now.’ Pansy tipped the glass over, ‘ _Morgana_ you are giving me a headache.’

‘Not that it matters, I’m very happy with James. Happier than I ever thought was possible.’ Draco couldn’t help but smile, then he sighed, ‘But like, the last words I said to Potter, after he got me out of the trouble with Aurors and Azkaban, was “what’s wrong with you”, and he put in a good word for me. Like, seriously what’s wrong with him. I just can’t deal with that man…’

‘Oh, I’m sure that what you said. There’s just a whole lot wrong with the man.’ Pansy said as she went and sat on another sofa with the bowl of oatmeal in her hands, folding her slim legs under her, ‘He’ll get over it. So should you. Plan the memorial. There’s no one better than you. Besides, everyone knows you two are besties now.’

‘Oh for Merlin’s sake…’ Draco clad his hand over his forehead. But Pansy’s not wrong. Everyone saw Potter talk to him at the Yule Ball, smiling, having a good time. No one knows what happened to the Weasleys, but the press caught a picture of Draco side-along Potter out the front door of the Ministry. There’s a full seven-page coverage on their past antagonistic history, their newly established friendship, and a possible future _romantic_ relationship on _Witch Weekly_. It’s not like it’s a secret the Malfoy heir appreciated both men and women. _Witch Weekly_ had always been kind to him, rating him in the top 10 good-looking wizards and published about his social activities charity and other things, believing in him as a changed man. But other coverages weren’t as kind, slandering Draco either as the next Dark Lord’s fuck toy or Dark Lord bunny (though those press articles weren’t exactly friendly to Potter either), or seducing the Saviour, sleeping his way up the ladder.

‘And,’ she said as she swallowed a mouthful, ran her finger along the silver spoon, ‘If you have questions, you can ask him at your birthday party. You know it’s the third ninth birthday of yours, and your parents are making a huge deal out of it. Your father caught wind of your relationship improvement with Potter, and he was invited. And he’s going.’

‘ _What?_ ’ Draco exclaimed, the third ninth birthday of the Malfoy male is big, usually by this point, they had already married and produced an heir, if their father chose them, they will be appointed the new head of the family on this birthday, and will officially take over the family business. Since Draco was the only one, there’s not even competition. But when the old head of the family was still alive, sometimes the new head didn’t really get to decide anything. Draco, without wife and child, wasn’t even sure his father would give him that title. _Merlin_ Potter was coming to his birthday party? ‘How… how do you know he’s going?’

‘Because he’s an outsider to the pureblood community, doesn’t know the first thing about pureblood traditions, so he ordered his robe and accessories from my fashion line, including a crash course on how to behave on a pureblood birthday party.’ Pansy bit out, ‘The man makes a good model, I’ll give him that. I see clothes flying off my shelf once he appears on your birthday party. That’s the only reason I agreed to help that bastard.’

The girl is a classic Slytherin, always put benefit first.

‘That’s why you have been staying?’ Draco asked, ‘And frankly I am surprised you stayed.’

‘No, I stayed for you, because you are an idiot who can’t see anything you don’t want to see even if I shove it in your face.’ Pansy stared daggers at Draco, then her eyes softened, ‘I need to keep an eye for you. That’s what Slytherins do for each other. They look after their own. And it doesn’t hurt to open up a business here in London.’

‘What the hell does that mean?’ Draco felt his heart jolted, but he couldn’t understand why he didn’t think she was right, but couldn’t refute her, ‘And I guess fucking Blaise doesn’t hurt too.’

She smiled so wickedly at that: ‘Oh he’s so good when…’

‘No! Don’t want to know that!’ Draco shouted.

‘Then piss off you bitch!’ Pansy throw a tie that’s left on the couch at Draco, ‘Now you know how I feel when you always come and rant about your fucking boyfriend.’

Draco caught the tie and laughed, then she looked serious: ‘I just got someone reminded me how important it was, to be honest to oneself and the one you love. I know things are complicated, and we may very well screw up what we have and get our heartbroken if we try to love… But, there’s always risks in life. So, Blaise and I are dating now.’

‘Yeah well, you would be the mother of two kids now if you took my advice in fourth year.’ Draco felt his heart warm up but said with a teasing tone, throwing the tie back.

‘And ruin this?’ Pansy gestured to her curved body, ‘Not a chance.’

‘Merlin, can’t a guy get some beauty sleep in the morning? Kind of need that to keep this butterfly in my spider net.’ Blaise came into the room wearing only a dark green silk pants, combed his fingers through his bedroom hair, walked up behind Pansy, leaned down and kissed her, Draco have to say he looked handsome smiling so lazily and indulgent, not as much as Potter though, ‘And I worked really hard last night.’

‘No nono. Too much information.’ Draco complained as his heart softened at Pansy’s bright smile.

‘Hey, you are the one said you saw _sunrise_ after your stud was done with you.’ Blaise laughed and took a seat on the arm of the sofa, pushed a stray strand of hair behind Pansy’s ear, ‘My girl can’t settle for anything less.’

‘I couldn’t get up the next morning and had breakfast delivered to my bed.’

‘Re-round!’ Blaise said, throwing Pansy over his shoulder, Pansy yelped and giggled.

‘Okay, I’m out of here.’ Draco ran for the floo.

——

That night, after their splendid sex, still on top of the man, Draco pushed the messy black hair out of the man’s forehead, asked as he stroked the lightning scar: ‘How did you know Potter was going to the Yule Ball?’

‘Huh?’ The emerald eyes looked up at Draco, still glistening in the after haze.

‘I was the planner of the Yule Ball, and the Aurors didn’t tell me Potter was going for the first time in ten years until Weasley showed up at the security check-up.’ Draco said, his cheeks still flushed but the silver eyes cool as frost, ‘How did you know before I did, that Potter was going to the Yule Ball?’

‘Um… I was kind of part of his security team?’ The man answered, lowering his eyes and kissing Draco’s fingers, ‘When he was attending important events, sometimes he would have a few doubles that stand by and help him with the press and of course security threats.’

‘Oh, great. So he had you die in his place. Very noble of him.’ Draco said sharply; then he looked to the man with widened eyes, ‘You mean it’s possible who I saw at the events was you?’

‘Um… not exactly.’ The man said, looking uncomfortable, ‘I wouldn’t be able to tell you if you are not on the security details of the memorial, but I guess I can now. Let’s just say… Mr. Potter always takes the most dangerous route himself, Hermione wasn’t exactly happy but conceded and calls it a double bluff. And if it’s really dangerous, like the Yule Ball, he would refuse to have doubles arranged against all suggestions from the Auror department and his security team.’

‘Typical Potter. Never wants his own safety and benefits at others expense.’ Draco said.

The man sighed, rolling on top of him: ‘You really need to decide how you feel about him.’

Draco tensed at that, and then he changed the subject: ‘By the way, are you going as his double at the memorial?’

‘No.’ The man said, ‘He deemed it too dangerous.’

‘Good.’ Draco smiled, ‘Then you can be my plus one. Can’t you?’

He held the man’s gaze, silver eyes looking closely at him, and the man looked back with ease, emerald eyes gentle and soft, laced with something complicated that Draco couldn’t tell: ‘Of course.’

Then he kissed Draco, and all thoughts about business were gone.

——

He devoted a lot of time and energy into planning the event, that put his relationship with the man on hold a little, but the man wasn’t complaining, just extremely supportive, telling Draco how much he understands planning this event means to Draco, kissed him whenever he got frustrated, and the back rub he gave Draco after a bad day at work is great.

On the day of May 2nd, the man came to Draco’s apartment wearing the black robe donated to all graduated attendants by Pansy’s clothing line, and a sliver engraved mask that covered his face save for the mouth and left cheek that’s the same as Draco’s.

By the time they apparated to King’s Cross station, the 9 3/4 platform was crowded by people wearing the same black robes and various masks. Weirdly, everyone was in a cheerful spirit, as if the first time they were on the station, probably because some of them, such as Pansy and George Weasley, had been unable to face it or missed a few of the past memorials, only attracted back because Draco had provided standard issued clothes and mask. Most of the close friends had recognised each other and started chatting excitedly about the masks.

The Ten-year Memorial of the War of Hogwarts was of course, very difficult to plan. Draco made quite a few drafts before he decided on a masquerade, inspired by the man actually.

‘Never tell them I got the inspiration of the mask from your theme night.’ Draco stressed as they boarded the train.

‘Never.’ The man agreed with an indulgent smile.

Frankly, Draco wasn’t trying to hide his identity, since someone as stupid as Goyle found him easily by his signature Malfoy long platinum hair with an iron knight helmet on his head which he couldn’t very well see-through and made him ran into everything before Draco had enough and vanished the grid before his eyes.

After a catching up with Goyle and Millicent, they got their own carriage to deal with the crying baby Vincent, Pansy and Blaise went to bang in their own carriage, just when Draco thought it might be a good idea to have some fun with the man themselves, he heard someone knocking and apologising to each carriage, and the annoying voice of Ronald Weasley: ‘How are we going to find… what do you mean by we’ll find him when we find _Malfoy_?’

And Granger: ‘Oh, just come along. You’ll see.’

Then their door was knocked.

Draco sighed and slipped off the man’s lap; the man gave him an apologetic look and opened the door. The man and woman outside the door were wearing masks, the man the mask of a wizard chess King and the woman wizard chess Queen, but there’s no doubt they are Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger judging by the red hair and brown curls.

‘Weasley. Granger.’ Draco greeted.

‘Er, Ron. Hermione.’ The man said, ‘Have a seat?’

Draco looked to the man curiously, but someone else took it harder, Weasley was visibly pale even with the mask on, just got pulled into the seat by Hermione numbly: ‘Malfoy? Malfoy is your plus one?’

‘Ron!’ Hermione chastised.

‘Um, yes? Something wrong with that?’ The man looked very innocent.

‘No, of course, it’s fine.’ Hermione said quickly as she cast a few private spells at the carriage, and passed the man a brown paper folder, ‘This is the newest intelligence on Harry’s security. You might want to read this as soon as possible.’

The man pointed to Draco: ‘Should Draco be briefed? He is the planner.’

‘No.’ Hermione said, ‘This is above Malfoy’s clearance, strictly for you. Harry labelled it code name Buckbeak.’

That name rang a bell.

‘Oh.’ The man also understood immediately, held the folder closer to himself, then he said, ‘About that, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Draco’s clearance…’

‘ _James_.’ Hermione said softly but irrefutably, her gaze glide by Draco and looked at the man apologetically, ‘Now it’s too dangerous. I still don’t think it’s a good idea to…’

‘Ok I don’t want to know anything else about Potter, last time I knew about the tracking powder, it almost got me kissed by Dementors.’Draco interrupted, not wanting to hear how they didn’t trust him, ‘As long as he doesn’t die on the events I planned, or I don’t get blamed when he does, I’m fine.’

Weasley looked at him as if he’s about to puke slugs.

‘Em, er, okay then.’ Hermione said.

‘Condolences on your family house by the way.’ Draco said to Weasley, ‘Though that house doesn’t look like it’s got many years left anyway —— anything else?’

Weasley was unresponsive. Hermione also looked at loss of words and was still looking at the man apologetically.

‘Well, go on!’ Draco pointed to the door, ‘I was enjoying the road trip with my boyfriend before you two barged in.’

Weasley was green now, but Hermione pulled him out of the door with ‘enjoy the day’.

After Draco was sure they left, he turned to the man: ‘What was that about? I didn’t know you were so close to Weasley and Granger. Weasley looked like he’s about to pass out when I called you my boyfriend.’

‘Um, let’s put it this way ——’ the man said as he looked at the back of his hand, ‘I dated Ginny, and it didn’t work out.’

‘You _what_?!’ Draco exclaimed, ‘You, you dated Weaslett?’

‘Draco!’

‘No! No, you don’t get to “Draco” me!’ Draco was upset, ‘What was it with that woman! And you didn’t tell me last time we talked about that!’

‘Um, was it important?’

‘It’s a dealbreaker.’ Draco said angrily, ‘Anyone who ever dated her can’t possibly have the aesthetic required to appreciate me.’

The man, however, was suppressing a smile at Draco’s expense.

‘But, since we’re here, tell me, was she any good in bed?’ Draco asked condescendingly, hating his stupid curiosity.

‘Er, we never got that far.’ The man blushed in embarrassment and said lightly, ‘We um, we don’t share the same interests. She isn’t exactly the type to kneel and call me sir.’

‘No.’ Draco said, ‘That’s not it.’

‘Well, we dated right around the war, and were distracted most of the time. Always another life-threatening situation, always another funeral, things like that. It wasn’t even a nice relationship; I’m not… I’m not a very good boyfriend. We never went on many dates, didn’t have much to talk about, I don’t remember laughing together with her, couldn’t kiss her on the lips without feeling weird.’ The man said frowning, trying to smile a little, ‘Can’t really blame her for leaving me.’

Draco stared at him, then huffed: ‘Like I said, you can’t understand. My guess is, you couldn’t live up to her expectations of Potter.’

‘Huh?’

‘I bet you anything Potter himself couldn’t live up to her expectations of Potter.’ Draco said, folding his arms.

The man still looked confused, so Draco explained to him goodheartedly: ‘That girl was in love with a fake image of the perfect Potter, fame, fortune, power, a hero, the great Saviour, the invincible Auror, the list go on and on. I bet you she dreamed of being Mrs. Potter all her life when she doesn’t have a fucking clue what kind of person Potter is. She wanted Potter to become the perfect man she imagined, not knowing what it means to Potter, or that if you love someone, you love who they really are and stay by their side up and down. I feel sorry for her, and for Potter. She was confused, and Potter deserved better, someone who understands he’s just human, and indulge his quirks. Father had his many flaws, but he was a hell of a lucky bastard to have mother’s love, and he knows to appreciate her.’

‘Um, actually, thinking about it, yeah.’ The man said, loosening his frown, as if he just figured it out himself, ‘That… that makes a lot of sense.’

‘Anyway, I detest your taste, I refuse to be included in it or mentioned in the same breath as Ginevra Weasley.’ Draco drew his conclusion.

‘You are breaking up with me?’ The man arched a brow.

That phrase stung a little, Draco couldn’t say yes, just turned his face angrily: ‘We are only pretending we are dating because we can’t tell people I’m your sex slave. We are not dating. I can’t break up with you.’

The man was silent for a while, watching as Draco tried to suppress his reactions, then the man’s hand was at the back of his neck, gently pulling Draco towards him: ‘Are you afraid, Draco?’

Draco wanted to say no, but he knew it was the truth. Despite what he said, Ginevra Weasley had everything. The Weasley family was undoubtedly the most prominent pureblood family after the war, she was the only girl in the family with so many brothers at the top of their lines of work, and she was beautiful with flawless character.

‘Don’t be.’ The man kissed him, Draco could see he was trying to stop himself so hard from saying what he was about to say next, but he couldn’t.

What he said was: ‘Draco. I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone else. More than I’ve ever thought it was possible for me to love anyone. Draco. I’m sorry that I… that I am saying this now.’

Why was the man apologising? Draco couldn’t understand.

Draco had never heard anything more beautiful than what the man just said, and Draco was incredibly happy now, so happy that Draco was floating, the only thing that was holding him on the ground was the sadness in those brown eyes, as if they were talking to him through a haze, that he thought he didn’t deserve to be loved by Draco, that he knew he wasn’t loved.

Somehow, Draco knew no matter what he says, he wouldn’t be able to convince the man.

But he said anyway, smiling playfully, like it didn’t mean everything to him.

‘I love you too.’ Draco said lightly, ‘I’ll leave you to your files then.’


	18. Everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation with Luna. Potter’s speech. After-party. Meet the portraits.  
> Basically how everyone knows except Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Mika.

Draco practically ran away,

He went to get some air at the end of the train, startled when he heard the footsteps of someone approaching him.

Draco turned and saw a giant lion head and it fucking roared at him, he almost fell off the train, if he was notcaught in time by a slim hand.

Luna Lovegood. Of course.

‘I saw the warkspurts and golden arrowbees all flying this way, so I came here to check it out.’ The crazy girl said with that daydreaming voice of hers as she pushed up the mask to reveal her face, ‘Of course, it would be you, Draco. Males from your family are often troubled around their third, ninth birthday.’

By this point, Draco had already known what warkspurtswere, but what golden arrowbees were, he had no fucking clue.

As if she knew Draco was wondering, she explained in good faith: ‘You must know the golden arrowbees. They always feed on the energy people give out when in love, and their honey is what Jupiter uses to make his arrow of love. That’s why love is so sweet, but sometimes stingslike a bee. Don’t be afraid; they will help chase away the warkspurts.’

‘Great. That’s very reassuring.’ Draco said, still haven’t recovered from the scare, couldn’t help but sound a little bit sarcastic, but he quickly schooled himself and tried to be nice, ‘How’s um, how’s everything going for you?’

‘Oh, you know, about the same.’ She said lightly, ‘Rolf and I are taking a break from our travels, Rolf has been asking the storks for a girl, but they were stubborn, insisted they wanted to bring a boy over first, so they are at a tie now.’

Is that her way of saying she’s pregnant? Or not pregnant yet? Draco was not sure.

‘Um, either is nice.’ Draco said, trying his best to think of something to say, ‘They will have a wonderful childhood with that portable zoo you have. However, you might want to be careful. A lot of the things you keep are dangerous to little humans.’

‘Thank you. Harry wanted to be a father, too, you know.’ Luna said softly, ‘But he’s never had one. The closest he’s ever had was his godfather, but they never got to spend a lot of time together. So he was a little worried about whether he could be a good father. He tried to be there as much as he can for Teddy, but his life is dangerous. He had to stay away.’

‘Er, good for him.’ Draco couldn’t think of why Luna would talk to him about Potter’s desire at fatherhood, but then again, nothing the girl said ever made any sense, so he’s just rolling with it, ‘He shouldn’t. As long as he devotes time and care, he should make a great father.Some things are just out of his hands. People who love him would understand.’

Luna smiled at that: ‘I knew you would understand. You always understand him better than anyone else.’

‘Yeah well, know your enemy.’

Luna tilted her head as if she didn’t understand him, but she too was used to not understanding people around her, so she just touched at above Draco’s heart as if stroking something there: ‘The heart always tells the truth. You were given so much love that flower of love is blossoming. It’s beautiful. That’s what’s attracting all the arrowbees.’

So. Invisible flower and bees.

Despite the fact that it sounded crazy, the girl lives in an interesting world.

‘Sometimes, even though you can’t see them, can’t feel them, don’t believe in them, they are there.’ As if felt Draco’s doubt, she said smiling, ‘Love isn’t something to be seen, but to be felt.’

Then she left singing, and somehow, Draco did smell the faintest sweetness.

The hair potion the man has been using on him perhaps.

——

The memorial started in the Phoenix auditorium which was built after the war, it was surrounded by a few classrooms and can easily be enlarged for purposes such as the annual memorial. Draco arranged the current students to sat on the first floor while past students sat on the second, and the boxes on the third floor that were usually occupied by ministry officials on such events were empty, as Draco insisted they should sit on the first floor in front of the students. Also, Draco had insisted everyone sit mix-housed. That had provoked quite some chaos, especially as Draco had arranged some alleged rivals from different houses that had caused a few troubles in the past to sit together. It took a while for the crowd to calm down enough for the event to begin.

Unfortunately, the event started with various tedious speeches from ministry officials, starts with the minister,down the ladder, and then McGonagall.

To plan the event, Draco had coordinate a lot of things with McGonagall. As a child, Draco had crossed her quite a few times, and he had hesitated before their first meet, but the witch welcomed him warmly. They even had quite a friendly conversation one night by the window, a dim lamp, and two cups of chamomile tea.Her profile looked every bit the loving grandmother of every child in the school and the strong women who guarded the school as it’s headmistress in the warm light, and she told him she felt her old age was catching up with her was thinking about retiring.

Draco told her sincerely that she was a great headmaster, her light shone just as bright among her predecessors.

She smiled softly at him, then said: ‘It’s very nice to see a past student. Especially since you have become quite an impressive man, Mr. Malfoy, I’ve heard about the things you did, the charity you did, the childcare system you helped to build, the bills you helped push through —— Don’t look surprised. I am old, but not dead. I have friends in the Ministry, and I know things, not even Mrs. Granger knows. Who do you think she learned from? And seeing you today, I am sure. What happened at Hogwarts still bothers you, but I don’t believe it’s bad, as long as you know, a redeemed man had walked a longer and more difficult path than the rest. The slanders and discrimination may always follow you, as it’s a price that’s inevitable, but you should raise your head as high as the others because you are no less man than them.’

What she said was heartwarming, but Draco didn’t think his calculated decision making and selfish support for Potter’s wish should count as anything. But he didn’t want to hurt the old lady. He unconsciously closed his fingers around the mug so tight that he almost couldn’t feel them anymore, then said: ‘There’s still a long way in front of me. I try to do my best.’

She then asked Draco to proofread her speech, so Draco knew what she was going to say. It was beautiful, as she truly cared deeply about her students, and memorialised all the souls that were lost in the war.

She also held the three-minute silent mourn, and the auditorium was quiet except for a few sobs people couldn’t hold back.

However, the speaker after her was a really old wizard, he spoke slow as a snail, slurring incomprehensibly, and making numerous mistakes in the process. His speech felt like it went on forever, and was as boring and sleep-inducing as it could be. Everyone was on the verge of being bored to death, some fell asleep, and some even laughed as they were borderline crazy. Except for Granger, of course, she still looked like she could learn something from the speech. Draco was now regretting his decision of inviting the ‘most prominent history expert on the War of Hogwarts’, but he’s sitting through it anyway, because the next…

Draco felt a warm hand press down harder than necessary on his shoulder, looked to his side and found the man standing by his seat, probably under a notice-me-not charm as his wand was out, and Draco didn’t notice him even though he was paying attention to everything but the speech. He looked somewhat different since the train, as Draco had to make sure everything was in order and just briefly kissed the man goodbye upon arrival. His hair just a little bit more messy, clothes wrinkled, and his eyes burning in the dark room behind his mask so deviantly that they were almost green like the wolf. He let Draco took it in, smiled, leaned downand whispered in his ear with his Dom voice: ‘Come on pet, let’s go out and play.’

A shiver ran down Draco’s spine; his reasoning struggled one last bit: ‘But…’

It’s still during the first part of the memorial, though near the end. The next speech will be delivered by… _Potter_.

‘I know.’ The man said, tilting his head. ‘Come.’

Oh.

The man had never outright shown any problem with Draco’s long and stubborn crush on Potter, even enjoyed playing the Saviour, and he said he’s fine as long as Draco liked him better, but maybe letting Draco see the real Potter in front of him was a bit too much.

Draco had wanted to say no, but the man just grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his seat, and there’s something in his gut telling Draco he should go, so he would be free of the shadow that’s been looming over them lately, and he eventually followed compliantly.

As the party planner, Draco had to deal with all kinds of emergencies, so he placed his seat right next to the exit, and it came rather convenient for this sudden situation. The man didn’t take him away, which was appreciated, so Draco could still keep an eye on the event to some extent, especially as the next speaker is Potter.

Just trust Potter to ruin everything for him. Draco had learned that lesson.

Together they ran to the third floor, the man pulled Draco into one of the boxes where they can have a direct line of sight to the stage, waved his wand, activated the spells installed, switched the glass window into a one-way mirror and muted the box both ways.

‘Nice view, isn’t it?’ He said as he pushed and pressed Draco to the glass with his weight a bit harshly.

He probably was talking about how from the box they can see all the people sitting in the auditorium, but Draco looked down just in time to see Potter walking onto the stage. He was wearing the same black robe of Pansy’s brand, perfectly tailored to his body, but was not wearing any mask, his black hair longer and slicked back as best as those messy strands could, revealing that scar he had always tried to at least half hidden away in his fringe, making him look more mature and composed, sharply handsome as he was not wearing any glasses and his emerald eyes stood out more distinctly.

Draco’s heart jolted at the sight; meanwhile, the man had pulled open his shirt, pressed his chest to the cold glass and was pulling his pants down. He tried to turn back to look at the man, but the man had his hand in Draco’s hair, pressing his forehead to the cold glass: ‘No. Keep your eyes straight.’

That would mean he had to look at Potter.

Potter had begun his speech, Draco couldn’t make out what he was saying as the box was muted, but he’s there, with every bit the unique charm of Potter. Draco really would like to look away, because he was hard since the man called him pet, and he was so used to be aroused by everything ‘Potter’ would say and do that this was getting confusing and complicated.

‘Hands on the sill, arse up.’ The man demanded.

Draco couldn’t bend down very far with the man pressed behind him, just parted his legs and raised his arse a little, he did as he was told but couldn’t help but looked back. The inside of the box was dark, he couldn’t see the man very well, just those bright and almost green eyes,and that smile was baring his sharp canine behind the silver mask.

He had never seen the man like this before, every bit the composed and controlling Dom, while so heated and rough that he was reminded of the night he lost his virginity to the man. He could tell the man was triggered by something, what, he had no way to know. But seeing the man like this, as if unstoppable hot lava flooding through an invincible iceberg, they were at war but also in harmony, and Draco was incredibly turned on and trembled under his gaze.

A harsh smack landed on his arse: ‘What did I say?’

‘To keep my eyes straight, sir.’ Draco replied, ‘Sorry, sir. But…’

The man was pressed to his back; such distance was awkward for physical spanking, so the man switched to hexing, Draco didn’t know the spell he used, but it stung quite fiercely, as if a wide heavy strap landed across both arse cheeks evenly, painting Draco’s arse red instantly. The man had always been more of the hands-on type, using a hex was a novelty to Draco, and Draco groaned and his knees buckled at the pain.

‘Bad pet.’ The man chastised.

Draco closed his eyes and whimpered, but the man cast again: ‘Eyes open.’

Draco curled his fingers on the marble sill and moaned, and was forced to look at Potter. He was confined in the tight space between the man’s body and the window glass, his pants pulled down, his hard cock pressed against the cold marble while his arse was burning, and Potter, in front of the crowd, was calmly delivering his speech.

It felt surreal, as Draco’s warm breath fogged over the glass, blurring Potter’s pretty face and emerald eyes.

The man was kissing and biting down on his neck and shoulder, his hands roaming Draco’s body, pinching and pulling his pink nipples till they are hot, hard and red like rubies then press them back into the cold glass, he cast a few more hexes, leaving Draco’s arse hot red and swollen as his fingers stroked and pulled at Draco’s arsehole roughly, forcing their way inside. Draco was incredibly aroused, moaning loud, screaming and trembling even as the man’s fingers hit his prostate and Potter’s eyes somehow glanced over his direction.

Biting at Draco’s earlobe, what the man said was: ‘ _You are mine._ ’

‘Yours.’ Draco concurred, pushing his arse back at the man’s hard cock, ‘I’m yours.’

There wasn’t anyone else in the universe that Draco would love more than the man that’s marking and bruising him, and Draco wanted nothing more to be penetrated and claimed by him at the moment. The man must have known how desperate Draco was, as he pushed himself in right then, slamming Draco into the window. No matter how carried away by his desire, the man always took care of Draco; he tried to break the impact with his hand. However, he must have touched something by accident, as he inactivated the muting spell, though they still wouldn’t be heard, Draco could hear Potter’s speech loud and clear, directed into the box by magic.

‘We are here today to remember the past. So the past is not forgotten, so the mistakes of the past shall not be committed again.’

Draco’s body tensed at that, the man panted and fucked into him hard, Draco couldn’t help but clenched his hole around the man’s cock, sucking it in deeper, he wanted to scream, going frantic as the pleasure built up, threatening to tip him over the edge, but somehow he used every ounce of control in his body to stay quiet and lucid.

‘But I also want to talk about moving on. We remember the past, so we can better put the past to rest, to leave it behind us —— There’s someone I would like to address, someone who had a long and antagonistic history with me, who I recently have seen in a new light.’

Draco’s eyes widened at that. No. It couldn’t be. Potter was… Was Potter talking about him?

‘We thank him for the event today, and we get a peek at how he sees the world: ministry officials serve and not above us, the house you sorted to shouldn’t hinder the development of a friendship or the success in the future career of your choosing. I had heard that the discrimination against some houses stopped, only to be replaced by discrimination against another. Headmistress McGonagall, of course, had dealt with that issue, but it pains me to see the same mistake made by me, personally, being made again. Wise men before us must have known the dispute between the houses was dangerous, so his house and mine were paired in all the classes, but we didn’t understand, just took it as an opportunity to rival each other in almost everything. Many blamed him for it, and he blamed himself, but I hold myself every bit accountable as he was. I believe it was my hope, as well as his, that as we move on, we walk the right path this time.’

For some reason, the man didn’t mute Potter, and at some point, it was just too much for Draco, he moaned and pushed back as the man bit on his shoulder and slammed into him hard. A tear was hanging dangerously on his eyelashes, but Draco couldn’t tell what it was for.

The man turned him around at that, wrapped his legs around his waist, fucking into him passionately but affectionately, stroking his cock and kissing him gently.

‘Last but not least, I want to serve as the reminder of celebration. We don’t just need to be reminded of the loss, and the purpose of remembering was not to dwell in it; we don’t just need to be aware of the danger in the future, and we need not to be afraid of it; we also need to be reminded of what we still have, what we can still get, as the present is the most precious thing that we have. And in the memory of a very dear, very creative friend of mine, to honour his noble act of fighting against injustice and unreasonable, and as a salute to one of the best moments of my own school life, also in the memory of a few other friends that fought with me back then, I would like to remind everyone how colourful life is, and we should celebrate each day we work towards a better future.’

They rolled to the floor with the man on top of him, his cock abused Draco’s prostate as his hands brutally squeezed his reddened chubby arse and skillfully stroked Draco’s cock, as Draco was screaming and cumming, he saw _real fireworks_ went off, hundreds of those bloody fireworks of Weasley Wizard Wheeze lit up the entire auditorium, all colours bursting out and burning brightwave after wave. There’s joy and laughter and chaos everywhere.

‘Oh, **_FUCK_** , Potter.’ Draco cursed, and the man, falling on top of him, couldn’t help but laughed.

See? Just trust Potter to ruin everything.

——

What Potter did was outrageous, but wasn’t ill-fitting to the after-party Draco planned.

Draco had a sunny weather charm cast, and held the party outdoors with blankets on rich grass to lie on and buffet in picnic baskets, as there’s nothing better to celebrate life with sunshine, blue sky, lazy clouds and lively greens. It was as informal as it could be, but enjoyable and good for bounding.

The attendants managed to get a few accordion, piper and the like to work, and some of them danced as the others laughed and clapped to the rhythm. Draco would have danced, if his arse wasn’t hurting just by colliding with his tailored pants and made his pants suspiciously tight at that, and that bastard pumped him full of semen and plugged him with silver ball number six before he left. That made Ginevra Weasley the most beautiful dancer. She had just got engaged to the new seeker of Stonewall Stormers, a young and handsome man with sandy blonde hair and charming green eyes —— not nearly as green as Potter though, just a light, faded green. She had worn a long white dress with red roses blossoming over it, her face and the dress was tainted by some yellow and green paint from the fireworks, but it didn’t stop her from looking beautiful and graceful as she twirled her dress smiling, dancing with her fiancé.

It’s good to see her finally moving on and truly happy too.

George Weasley was also one of the happiest men in the crowd, probably because it had been a while since he was so happy. Draco had seen him hugging Potter —— himself quite ruined with green paint that you would think he’s a Slytherin —— before he left the auditorium and saying something that looked a lot like ‘thank you’.

Also, everyone surrounded Hannah Abbott, as her pregnancy had just begun to show. She had that glow of becoming a mother, but she also panicked about many things. Good thing Draco got paper bags and other things prepared for this kind of emergencies, especially as Neville Longbottom, the new father, was no use at all as he needed paper bag every time his wife did.

Neville —— wait, he’s Neville now? —— leaned on Draco —— wait what? —— as he recovered from almost fainting himself after Hannah almost tripped and fell because she couldn’t see her feet if James hadn’t come by right then and cast a spell and saved her in time, sighed and said: ‘Merlin being a parent is hard.’

The man smiled and patted Neville on the shoulder: ‘Relax. You are going to be a great father.’

‘Not going to bond with his kid over Quidditch any time soon though.’ Draco commented.

Neville laughed as the man discreetly ran his hand over Draco’s still sore arse before pulling Draco into his embrace and warned: ‘ _Draco_.’

Neville watched as they interacted intimately, then his eyes widened: ‘You two are _dating_?’

‘Yep.’ The man said with a smile, kissed Draco lightly on his cheek and rested his chin on Draco’s shoulder, and Draco blushed a little.

‘Oh, so you were talking about…’ Neville was shocked, but quickly schooled himself, ‘Anyway, you deserve to be happy. If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you. I wouldn’t care what everyone else thinks. As long as you are happy.’

‘Thank you.’ The man said, smiling.

‘Neville! Merlin help me that fried shrimp ball is making my stomach turn… Who are you talking to?’ Hannah came over and held Neville’s hand, smiling at Draco and the man, ‘Oh Mr. Malfoy. Thank you for your great event. Well, I don’t believe I’ve met your friend.’

Really? Draco looked to the man suspiciously. The tension in his gut that was gone earlier came back again. The man was Gryffindor, seemed close enough with Weasley, Granger and Longbottom. He probably was a member of that Dumbledore’s army or something. And Hannah Abbott doesn’t recognise him?

‘Hannah! It’s James.’ Neville said quickly, ‘You know, _James_.’

The man cast a spell, conjuring a lily and passed it to Hannah: ‘Here. The smell should help with your nausea.’

Hannah took the flower, and realisation appeared in her eyes: ‘Oh _James_. James _Evans_. Haven’t seen you in a while —— _You are dating Malfoy now?!!!_ ’

Hannah looked like she’s about to pass out, and Neville quickly held her, apologised and excused themselves.

‘Why are they always so surprised that we are dating?’ Draco was annoyed.

The man sighed: ‘Maybe it’s been a while since any Gryffindor dated a Slytherin?’

‘That look was like either or both of us had gone mental.’

‘Well.’ The man said as he kissed Draco again, ‘Love is crazy.’

Well, Draco has nothing against that. He just kissed back, and said: ‘There’s someone I would like you to meet.’

——

‘What?’ Draco asked in front of the portrait room.

‘Well, you should have told me you wanted to come.’ The man said tentatively and a bit awkwardly, ‘I think I was just here… when I was gone earlier. I… Mr. Potter wanted to pay his respect to Dumbledore.’

‘Well, _you_ could have told me where you were going rather than leaving me on the floor.’ Draco folded his arms.

Although Draco knew it’s Potter’s fault. They had some weird security arrangement going on, and the man had been called away, disappearing and popping back up all day.

The man lowered his head: ‘Sorry.’

Draco just couldn’t stay angry with him whenever he looked so cute and innocent with those pleading puppy eyes. He turned his head and opened the door: ‘Anyway, just go inside.’

The man walked in, and Draco immediately heard Severus shouting: ‘Oh for Merlin’s sake, it’s not enough I have to see you, but again so soon? Twice in a day is two times too much, Mr.…’

Then he saw Draco walking in, and stopped himself, those obsidian eyes softened just a little: ‘Draco.’

Draco had always had a complicated relationship with his father. In comparison, he would consider himself closer to his Godfather, Severus, who had even known he was bisexual and favoured men a bit more, and had tried to help him out of the death eater mess instead of gotten him in. Not that their relationship was perfect. Severus had always been a bit too indulgent to Draco too, as he was his godson, a Slytherin through and through, and nodoubly the best potions master after him. He had also looked the other way when Draco bullied Potter, due to some old feud of the last generation, though Draco didn’t know the specifics. Severus had regretted that at about sixth year, but Draco wouldn’t blame him for his own mistakes.

He wanted Severus to be the first to know he had found someone he really liked.

Most of the Headmaster portraits were empty, presumably to give Potter some privacy when he talked to Dumbledore earlier, except for Dumbledore, of course, the old man wearing his ridiculous starry blue robe that always made Draco feel uncomfortable with his observant eyes, was looking at them curiously. Draco tried his best to ignore him because he felt guilty and couldn’t just tell Dumbledore to take a walk.

‘Severus.’ Draco said nervously, ‘Sorry I didn’t come earlier when I was planning the memorial. I wanted to come with him… I want you to meet him. My boyfriend. James.’

The man closed his eyes, looked a bit pale as if he had blown up all the cauldrons in the classroom and expected to be murdered by Severus. Despite being nervous as hell himself, Draco found it fun to watch the man suffer.

‘ _J AMES_.’ Severus said as he narrowed his eyes, ‘Is it?’

‘Um…’ The man couldn’t get a full sentence out.

‘You are dating my godson?’ Even Draco flinched away from Severus’s cold tone and deathly stare, despite the fact that it’s not directed at him, ‘ _You?_’

‘I em, I am… I am sincere.’ The man managed to say.

‘What did you do back in school?’ Draco whispered curiously, ‘Blew up a hundred cauldron or murdered his cat?’

‘He had a cat?’ The man whispered back.

And at that moment, Dumbledore burst out laughing: ‘Severus. You needn’t be so hard on H..him. You of all people should know, he is a man of character. The pathahead of them may have many obstacles, but it’s the path of their choosing, and I believe they have what is needed to conquer them.’

There you go—the famous ambiguous gibberish pep talk of Albus Dumbledore.

‘If you say what they have is love, Dumbledore, if you say love one more time, I swear.’ Severus was irritated, ‘I swear I would…’

‘Godfather.’ Draco said quickly, taking the man’s hand in his, ‘I just want you to know, I think I’m really happy with him.’

Severus fell silent. He watched the man intensely for a while, and the man looked back with calm, then Severus conceded: ‘I don’t care if you are involved with this troll or any other troll. Though I do think this is the worst you can do, I’m content as long as you are happy, Draco.’

‘Thank you.’ Draco said and decided not to push their luck; he proceeded to pull the man out when he passed over Dumbledore, he hesitated and said quietly, ‘I’m sorry. Sorry that… I interrupted, and disturbed you.’

Dumbledore just smiled: ‘There’s nothing that pleases me more than seeing a little love story in its happening. Remember, son, golden arrowbees, vulnerable heart, and sacrifice. An arrow is an arrow, because it always points to where the heart is. Be aware of what truly matters.’

 _Great_. This golden arrowbee thing is going around. They are making it sound real.

Anyway, Draco nodded and thanked him.

Before they left, however, Severus called: ‘You.’

The man stopped and looked back.

‘You have your mother’s eyes.’ He said.

The man stopped there for a second, then he slowly reached and took off his mask, and looked at Severus for a while. From where Draco stood, he couldn’t see the man’s face, just felt his hand tightened around Draco’s, his stance gentle and determined, and he let Severus stare long into his eyes. Severus’s eyes were the softest Draco had ever seen, glinting lightly as if stars shining in the midnight sky.

‘I hope you have her heart, as well.’ Severus said in the end.

The man bowed deep before he put the mask back on and pulled Draco away. The door closed slowly behind him, and Draco saw Severus gave him one last look, hopeful and worried, just as a father would look at his daughter before he walks her down the aisle.

Draco smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you feel some discrepancies with Harry’s behaviour, it’s because there’s time turner involved.


	19. Hippogriff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something about the hippogriff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Mika for proofreading.

They played late, till the sky was dark blue and stars shone brightly alongside the beautiful moon.

The students were being called back into the castle, and some guests started making their way back to the train. Though the train wouldn’t start till midnight, they chose to settle in after a long day, or continue there.

Draco got separated with the man somewhere along the line, _again._ The man mostly just made sure Draco was okay after seeing Dumbledore, and then he was gone. In his absence, Draco did some catch up with his old Slytherin housemates and some socialising with his other schoolmates from other houses, as it seemed to be a lot easier with the help of Granger and Neville.

But by nightfall, when the last shade of pink and purple was about to fade away, Draco excused himself from a laughing and smiling group of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, saying that he had to go find his boyfriend.

The man was definitely not outside, as he was not at the clearing or the Quidditch field, so Draco searched the inside of the castle where he thought the man might have gone, and bid farewell to McGonagall along the way.

Just as he left the Headmistress’s office and ran down the hallway, he saw the man turn over a corner and ran after him, caught him by his hand and said seductively: ‘There you are. I’ve been searching everywhere for you.’

The man looked back a bit surprised, he wore his hair slicked back, and wasn’t wearing any glasses, so his clear emerald eyes just inches away from Draco’s silver eyes. Also, a few strands of his hair and part of his clothes had green paint on it. It took Draco a moment to realise the man he’s now holding hands with was Potter. The _real_ Potter.

‘Merlin I’m sorry!’ Draco let go of his hand and stepped back instantly, ‘I thought… I thought you were my, um, my boyfriend.’

Potter looked like he wanted to say something, but no sound came out, he looked down at his hand and sighed. Draco was so embarrassed that he wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole, and he really needed to say something smart to get them out of this awkward situation.

‘You um, you leaving?’ Draco asked, ‘I’ll walk you to the station. I can’t find James anywhere anyway, so my best guess is he’s already back at the train.’

‘Um, I’m not leaving by train.’ Potter said, quite politely actually, as if nothing embarrassing had happened, Draco thought he was trying to be polite as he turned Draco down, but he wasn’t, ‘I’m… Actually, come. I’ll show you.’

Draco didn’t know what got into him, but he followed Potter. There’s still ample time till the departure time of the train anyway.

But it was then he suddenly realised something. As if the silver ball inside his arsehole suddenly weighted a little more, or maybe just shifted slightly as it slipped on cum. Its presence was suddenly very distinct, making Draco very aware that he was walking with Potter, with the man’s cum and the silver ball in his red, swollen arse.

He stopped abruptly, and Potter stopped too, looking back at him, confused.

‘I er…’ Draco took a deep breath and tried to pass it off, ‘I wanted to apologise for last time. You helped me out, but I was… I was ungrateful. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t worry about it.’ Potter said, walking again, ‘I was the one that stepped out of line, and probably scared you. I mean, us, being friends, is still new. And I know that you always use offense as your defense. Um, we are still friends, right? I hope I at least managed to get on friendly terms with you.’

He said as he tilted his head, the resplendent green of his eyes shone through his long and heavy eyelashes, without the shield of glasses, it almost yanked Draco’s heart.

‘Of course.’ Draco heard himself.

‘Good. And please stop apologising to me.’ Potter smiled, he was kind of awkward, but gentlemanly, ‘It seems to be the only reason you’ve been talking to me. If anything, I’m the one with a lot of overdue apologies.’

Draco was silent. He never had much civil conversation with Potter, and this was new and interesting to him, like a child having mint candy for the first time, sweet and refreshing, every brain cell of his was cool and bubbling. Not to mention he had always been fascinated by that timid but confident, polite and gentle demeanor of Potter’s. And all of this was extremely shameful as he was very clearly aware he had the cum of another man in him.

‘Your speech,’ Draco said, diverting his own concentration, ‘was beautiful. You meant it?’

‘Every word and more.’ Potter said, then laughed a little, ‘Sorry about the fireworks though. Probably gave you some trouble.’

‘It’s fine.’ Draco said, then smiled too, ‘Worth it, once I saw the ministry officials covered in paint. I mean, Rosier was _pink_.’

They laughed together.

For a moment there, Draco had forgotten who they had become, and felt as if they were just students of Hogwarts, close friends, and were wandering the hallway after curfew, secretly laughing at pranks they just pulled.

They walked through the yard and headed towards the forbidden forest, talking about this and that, nothing important. When Potter said they were there, Draco looked up and saw moonlight casting down through the blue night, shredded by the branches and leaves, and as Potter whistled, a beast raised its head and looked over.

It slowly walked out from the shadows and into the moonlight, its form both fearful and graceful, and it bowed as Potter bowed with elegance.

It’s… Merlin, it’s Buckbeak.

‘It’s… it’s alive.’ Draco was amazed.

‘Yeah.’ Potter said smiling, walked up to it and stroked its feathers, talking to it softly as it looked to Draco with vigilance and distaste, ‘Shh… Buckbeak, it’s alright. He’s a friend.’

‘They told me… they told me they had executed him.’ Draco was still shocked, ‘I was… I felt really guilty.’

He had asked the man for a scene for it, but somehow they never got around to it, and Draco, quite frankly lost in love, forgot about it quickly.

‘You know how the ministry was like. They probably just didn’t want to take the responsibility of its escape, so they faked paperwork about its death. We were surprised when we heard Buckbeak was officially dead.’ Potter shrugged and smiled, somehow, he looked nostalgic and sad, ‘We had a hell of a night, but we managed to save him —— come on. Take a bow.’

Draco was hesitant, but Potter tilted his head in encouragement: ‘Come on. It’s okay. I’m here.’

That shouldn’t have moved Draco’s heart, but it did. He took a deep breath, then bowed. He would have done it gracefully, if he wasn’t pumped full of cum by the man and had a silver ball up his arse, which just happened to shift as he bowed. It was a lousy and shaky bow, but the hippogriff wasn’t picky. It bowed back and lowered his head, motioning for Draco to come closer.

Draco walked up to it, raised his hand but was still hesitant, the next moment; he widened his eyes as Potter took his hand and placed it on Buckbeak’s forehead.

Draco couldn’t very well feel what the feathers of Buckbeak felt like, but the warmth of Potter’s hand against the back of his hand was distinct. He wanted to pull his hand back, but it would seem too abrupt, as it really couldn’t be considered inappropriate, and maybe this was just Potter’s way of making him feel less embarrassed about their mistaken handhold earlier. And, it’s not like they haven’t shaken hands before, and there’s that time Draco took his hand and Potter saved him from the fire, and there’s last time when Potter gave him a hand to get back into the building. Draco didn’t want to hurt Potter’s feelings again. But then again, right now, he had the hand of his crush on the back of his hand.

Buckbeak wasn’t aware, he just snorted and bowed down, inviting them to get on for a fly.

Draco wanted to go for a ride, but he was kind of afraid, and his pride stopped him from saying so in front of Potter, but Potter could probably tell, as he too knew Draco really well: ‘It can be a bit dangerous the first time, but an experienced flyer like you should be okay. Come. I’ll go with you.’

He said as he got on its back deftly, then stretched out his hand at Draco.

He shouldn’t, there’s just no way he should, but he looked magnificent in the dark blue night, silver moonlight poured down from his ebony hair to his emerald eyes, then down his hand, as if it could lie in his gentle palm as a puddle, swaying a little with the soft breeze.

Draco just couldn’t resist that hand.

‘Potter, I…’

‘No. Use my first name.’ Potter insisted.

Draco couldn’t. Harry was the name he called during his sex with the man, through his orgasms with the man, just the mere thought of that name aroused him, he couldn’t help but clenched his hole, and the silver ball shifted inside him, he had to bite down on his lips to stop himself from moaning.

He never thought this would be happening, that he would have to face the real owner of the name, when that name had almost become his switch.

He chose the easier way out, and took Potter’s hand.

The hippogriff was a large beast, so there was enough room on its back for Draco to sit without being too close to Potter. Draco hasn’t sat down since Potter’s speech as his arse was still swollen and painful, but he was an experienced horse rider due to his education as the Malfoy heir, so he duplicated a saddle for himself, supported his weight with his legs and sat gingerly. Potter didn’t say anything about that, just extended the harness with a wordless wandless spell and passed it to Draco, then leaned down, patted the hippogriff and said something in its ear.

The hippogriff stretched out its wings, started a jog then ascended into the air gently.

It felt different, and interesting, flying by the hippogriff rather than a broom. Draco was curious and thrilled at first, looking around as they were over the tree line.

He never had the chance to look at Hogwarts and the forbidden forest in the air at night before, though he’s aware Potter did, probably quite a number of times. The castle was like a beautiful and dangerous monster, sleeping in the gentle cool night, the thousand windows of it were like its eyes, and a few were still pouring out warm yellow light, as if it still had a few eyes open in vigilance. The lake shimmered in the silver moonlight, and the forest extended for miles, everything felt like it’s asleep, except for Potter and him, and Buckbeak the hippogriff.

But just as they gained some altitude, the bloody beast took a nosedive, and Draco panicked and the next thing he knew, he had his arms around Potter’s strong waist and his face buried between Potter’s shoulders.

It was a familiar position for him actually. The last time he was here, he was at the back of Potter’s broom, his life depended on the determined boy directing his broom with his entire concentration, and the deadly flame was chasing after them, just inches behind.

This happened before, when they were still rivals, so it should be okay. Isn’t it?

Merlin why would he think this was the easy way out.

Apparently, the beast was having a blast, as he then soared back into the sky, Draco almost fell off if Potter hadn’t caught him in time then switched places with him and helped him sit sidesaddle with that seeker reflex and strength of his, and held Draco in front of him with one strong arm and the harness in the other hand. Draco’s arse was still quite painful to sit on, and he couldn’t support himself with his legs anymore, so he had no choice but to cling to Potter tight with arms around Potter’s neck and face half-hidden in his shoulder. He could feel every strong muscle and their movements in the position, and every warm breath Potter took was right down his sensitive ear and neck.

Then they breached the clouds, and was high in the deep blue sky, and the hippogriff finally started a smooth flight.

There, their surrounding was quiet, and the stars were so bright that they felt so close, that Draco could pick up one if he just reached for it.

It was breathtakingly beautiful.

Air at such height was cold, and before Draco could say or do anything, Potter’s warming charm washed over, it felt extremely intimate, as if the cape of Potter’s body temperature cloaked Draco in, and Draco couldn’t help but closed his eyes and shudder.

‘Please let me down.’ He almost whispered.

The wind was loud, and Potter didn’t hear him at; first, he shifted so he could hear better, and Draco could feel his warm breath against the back of his neck, where the man had left a bite mark earlier which Draco concealed with a glamour, as he asked: ‘Pardon, what?’

Draco was able to speak aloud this time: ‘Please let me down.’

Potter was silent for a moment, but he then patted the hippogriff on its shoulder, and it landed with elegance.

‘Sorry.’ Potter apologised as he jumped off the hippogriff, giving Draco a hand at getting off as he smiled that irresistible bright smile, ‘I guess… I guess we got excited, and the flight got a bit bumpy.’

Draco took Potter’s hand and got off the hippogriff, but smiled back wanly and turned his face away.

Potter noticed his weird mood, carefully took a step back, looked down at the back of his hand and said: ‘You said… you said you are dating someone.’

Why would Potter ask about that? But Draco answered anyway: ‘Yes.’

‘Do you know him very well?’ He asked, looking up at Draco, his emerald eyes serious and irresistible.

‘Of course.’ Draco honestly didn’t know what all of everything was about, this whole thing with Potter felt absurd and confusing, but he felt better as soon as he thought about James, and hopefully, this would be less confusing, ‘We had just started dating, but… I feel like I know him without needing him to tell me everything. I really like him. He… he might be awkward, not famous or anything, but he’s the right one for me, I… I love him; I really do. I care deeply for him. The world hasn’t been fair to him, and I want to give him everything the world owed him. I wouldn’t trade the world for him.’

‘And how do you feel about me.’

Draco’s eyes shot up and got caught right in those emerald eyes. What… what was Potter talking about? He couldn’t seriously be asking… _No_. Did he know? Somehow, he figured out Draco’s crush on him? And was tonight… was he trying to _seduce_ Draco? So what if Draco wanted him, Harry Potter was like _the most_ famous man of the wizarding world, and it didn’t help he was young and handsome. Half of their year had a crush on him. It’s no different than fantasising a movie star except they studied together every day. Draco’s pretty sure that Astoria Greengrass used to have a crush on Potter and it didn’t stop her from being happily married to Theodore Nott.

Who did Potter think he is? Something novelty plaything he could just screw? Draco’s face flushed red, and he said angrily: ‘I don’t know what you are talking about.’

‘No. You misunderstood me.’ Potter quickly explained, he frowned and thought for a moment, but then he said: ‘When we first saved Buckbeak, we had him stashed at Grimmauld Place. But then he needed care, so we had to get him back so Hagrid could take care of him. We couldn’t have him back as Buckbeak, so we renamed it Witherwings.’

What? So they are back to talking about Buckbeak now?

It’s a really bad twist of conversation, but Draco knew by now that Harry Potter wasn’t exactly sophisticated when it comes to normal human interactions. So maybe he did misunderstand him earlier —— of course, he did. Potter would never try to step in other people’s relationship, not to mention…

‘Please think about it.’ Harry said, his emerald eyes pleading, ‘Different names, but the same…’

But his wrist suddenly burned bright red and Potter quickly grabbed his forearm and gasped in pain, a ring of thread-like magic appeared around his wrist, and it was searing into his flesh as if red hot iron.

‘What the…’ Draco quickly took Potter’s hand in his, pulled out his wand and cast a healing spell at Potter’s wrist, ‘What in the name of Merlin was that?’

The pain seemed subsided at the spell, all that’s left it’s just a faint ring of redness. Potter closed his eyes and bit down on his lips for a moment, then answered: ‘It’s alright. It’s nothing —— just something confidential.’

Draco didn’t want anything to do with all things confidential, and he pulled his hand away as soon as he was sure Potter was alright. He looked around and saw they landed rather close to the station, and he just wanted to excuse himself so he can go find James: ‘I think I should leave. Whatever that is, I don’t think I have the clearance.’

‘ _Draco._ ’

Potter caught his hand and pulled him back, and Draco’s eyes widened. The motion was too severe that the silver ball shifted and fell out, the cum the man filled him with leaked out and wet his silk underwear. Draco looked back unbelievably, but those emerald eyes were looking at him with hard determination, even though the ring was burning again, and his hand was shaking in pain, he managed to say: ‘Please think…’

Draco yanked his hand back and stepped back. He was extremely embarrassed as his underwear was soaked now, his face burned as his eyes teared up, he shook lightly and spoke without thinking: ‘I don’t know what you are talking about. I really need to find James now. I need to go now.’

He turned around, just in time to saw James getting off the train, standing under the lamppost looking around for him, and Draco ran.

He couldn’t bear another moment away from the man.

The man saw him and waited with his arms open, he caught Draco and held him tight in his embrace.

Potter can go fuck himself.

Draco grabbed the man’s hand and wanted to go back on the train, but just then Weasley got off the train looking a bit pale, and said to them a bit shakily: ‘I wouldn’t get on the train if I were you. Hermione’s throwing a storm in there because the ministry tampered with Harry’s… confidential stuff.’

Draco looked back instinctively at where Potter was, but he was gone. However, the hippogriff was still there, stamping its hoofs, Draco was worried for a second, but the man had pulled him back into his embrace: ‘Don’t worry. Mr. Potter was secured. Ron will take Buckbeak —— you must be tired. Let’s go to another carriage.’

How? But Draco didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to think about Potter anymore. The man sounded tired too, so Draco kissed him and followed without protest.

He wanted nothing more to be held safe in the man’s embrace.


	20. No

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything happened around the birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Thanks to Mika as always.

‘For the hundredth time, I am not fucking dating Harry fucking Potter!’ Draco yelled to the interview letter sent by Merlin knows what magazine this time, ‘That means I’m neither fucking him nor dating him, clear?’

The letter was still trying to ask questions, but Draco got up, pulled open the door and yelled: ‘Elise! Sift through my mail and _incinerate_ every interview letter!’

Someone got a bloody picture of Potter helping him get off the hippogriff, and it got plastered over almost all the front page of newspapers and magazines. It was a very nice shot, bloody romantic even, as there’s moon, star, hippogriff, and Potter was smiling. Draco’s head was lowered, and it could easily be mistaken as shy.

No. It was not how it looked like. He’s got cum of another man up his arse for fuck’s sake.

‘Someone is in a bad mood.’

Standing right before him was the man, smiling softly, carrying a box of pastries in his hand.

Draco was surprised, but quickly pulled the man in and kissed him: ‘Merlin I miss you so much.’

The man smiled, put the pastries on the table, held him close and kissed back.

The man was sweet as ever, but Draco felt guilty. He had been really busy with planning the memorial; then there’s his birthday. Pureblood birthdays, not to mention the third, ninth birthday of a Malfoy male, was a lot more complicated than the memorial. And since he had been putting things off to deal with the memorial first, he hadn’t been able to spend much time with the man. The man was also quite busy lately, as his job as Potter’s security detail suddenly picked up its pace. They were both so busy that it’s been almost six months since he got his fancy jewellery collar, but the man had never put it on him, saying they need to do it when they could both concentrate on it.

And there’s this weird thing with Potter.

Draco was sure Potter wasn’t trying to get Draco to cheat with him or anything, because he’s too decent a person to do that, but then what happened that night was weird, Draco couldn’t for the love of Merlin figure out what he wanted Draco to understand, and the feeling of cum leaking out of his arse right in front of Potter was so embarrassing that Draco really didn’t want to think back about it.

He was, after all, Draco’s old crush and a terribly attractive man.

The man didn’t say anything about the raging news coverage, but Draco could tell he wasn’t exactly so comfortable with the topic concerning Potter anymore. It’s not like he was suspicious or anything. He did ask about how Draco felt about Potter, when Draco assured him he wasn’t interested, he believed Draco, and never brought it up again. But Draco could feel he felt threatened, and had been extra careful to maintain their relationship.

‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’ Draco opened the box and picked out a cup of tiramisu, smiled and had a spoonful.

‘I came to apologise.’ The man said, his eyes on the back of his hand, ‘I got the invitation to your birthday party. I kind of will go to your birthday party, but I kind of also can’t.’

Draco thought for a second, then he was angry: ‘You had to come as Potter’s double.’

The man sighed: ‘Sorry.’

And though he had a box full of his favourite desserts, Draco lost his appetite. The man leaned down and kissed him, his voice as soft as possible, and his frown wrinkled Draco’s heart: ‘Please believe me, that there’s nothing I want in the world more than I want you to be happy, and I hope I can be the person that makes you happy. Please remember this.’

The man's pleading tone moved something inside Draco, as if the first break of ice in the spring, but it’s horrifying, as what’s about to follow wasn’t necessarily a warm spring, but a destructive ice run.

Draco just held the man forehead against forehead, and whispered quietly: ‘I believe you.’

——

Draco got back to the manor the night before his birthday.

Mother, as always, was glad to see him. Even father looked a bit easier for it’s going to be his birthday, going on and on about Draco getting his recognition tomorrow, leaving off his usual comments about changes he didn’t like. After all, their parenting had always been very spoiling.

Draco’s birthday party was a lot larger than mother initially estimated, as the recent scandal with Potter had made everyone suddenly very interested in coming. If Draco didn’t know better, he would think he cooked up his affair with Potter so the Malfoy family would gain more status, because it’s working like a charm. Though bad press about the Malfoy family was at the uproar, there are also people lining up at the Manor, hoping to get a piece of the glory.

A piece of Potter’s glory. Which Draco had no interest in taking, let alone sharing with those vultures.

No matter how many more guests, the procedure wasn’t going to change, it’s the way it always had been for the past hundred years, as mother went over with him when she helped to dress him in the black, green, silver formal robe: the guests would start to arrive at around two o’clock, and the tea party would be at three, dinner starts at five, and ball at eight. All the guests will have to stay till count down, for the final ritual symbolising Draco as the next head of the Malfoy family in front of the family heraldry.

‘You are stunning today, mother.’ Draco said as he kissed mother on her cheeks.

‘Not as much as you, my son.’ Mother said as she ran her hand down the front of his robe, adjusting a silver dragon breastpin, ‘I’ll be downstairs, checking out the refreshments for the tea party.’

Draco nodded, and took one last look of himself in the full-length mirror.

He looked sharp and distant, the perfect Malfoy heir with the perfect fake mask. But he dislikes himself as just a Malfoy. The name that once made him proud was just meaningless letters now. Everything he liked about himself had something to do with the man: his hair was about the same length as his father, tied neatly in a queue, the man had said he didn’t much care how long Draco’s hair was, as long as he gets to bury his hand in it, and he devoted quite some effort to keep it healthy, right now, it glowed like silk of the highest quality; his skin tone was a bit pale, but the man had liked it, saying it made all the marks he left on Draco’s body distinct; he was still a bit thin, but the man, with his impressive cooking, had made him gain some weight, and ‘in all the right places’.

Draco had always been arrogant about his beauty, except for when he was actually facing the one he wanted to win over. It’s Potter who screwed him for that, never actually looked at him as if he was worth anything. But, he’s not going down that road. The man had always been happy and generous to assure him how much he was fascinated.

He really liked himself now, with all the little sighs of being loved by the man.

Thinking about that, he opened a velvet box and picked out a bracelet. A silver bracelet decorated with diamonds and emeralds, which he snatched from the full set the man gave him as new year’s present. It fit right in with his attire, and it gave him some comfort to wear the symbol of the man’s claim.

If this messes with the man, then bonus.

——

Potter was on time.

Draco was unsettled the moment he heard Potter’s name was announced, and his cheeks burned up as he couldn’t help but remembered the shameful feeling of cum leaking out his arse as Potter grabbed his wrist.

He wanted to hide, but father had a hand on his back: ‘Draco, I believe our most honourable guest is here. Go and greet him on my behalf.’

‘Yes, father.’ Draco sighed internally.

Father probably heard about his scandal with Potter, but father wouldn’t care. In fact, father was one of the few Malfoys who actually had a faithful marriage. They had always cared more about power and status, and sex was just another means to the end. As long as he marries some pureblood witch and produces an heir, father wouldn’t care how many lovers he kept on the side. And sleep with Potter? Father wouldn’t approve of homosexuality, but Potter was not a man in his father’s eyes. He was a target. He would be fucking proud if Draco ever manages to sleep with Potter.

Luckily for Draco, Potter was more embarrassed and awkward than he was. Draco immediately felt more confident seeing Potter looking at him nervously through his thick eyelashes.

Pansy wasn’t kidding about clothes flying off the shelves after Potter show up today. She had used the simplest lines, and the purest green on Potter, silver ivy branches decorated with kallaite down the front brought out Potter’s eyes distinctively, and added some solemnity to Potter’s awkward demeanor. Also, whatever spell she used to deal with Potter’s hair, Potter needed to learn it.

That girl really tried. And Potter did have some potential in modeling.

Before Draco said anything, Potter spoke quietly: ‘Sorry about last time. I’m just… really bad at trying to connect to you. I just hope I haven’t completely screwed up our friendship?’

Well, to be fair, he was a good friend, literally bailed Draco out, said good things about Draco in the speech, showed Draco the hippogriff and took him for a ride and all. Not to mention, he did a lot of work to attend Draco’s birthday party. That robe Pansy designed for him, the dark green dress shirt really brought out his eyes. He was just bad at conversations. And given his history with the fiasco that dating had turned out to be, it’s just his birth default. Draco was the one that kept overreacting because he had an unresolved crush on Potter, or had another man’s cum up his arse.

‘No.’ Draco stretched out his hand just to get another handshake, ‘But what were you trying to tell me?’

Potter sighed: ‘Shakespeare?’

Draco had no idea what that was. But then Potter’s gaze stopped at Draco’s wrist, and he shielded his eyes with his heavy eyelashes: ‘Nice bracelet.’

‘Er, thanks.’ Draco said, turning the bracelet, ‘It’s a gift from… him.’

Potter nodded.

Anyway, having Potter at his birthday party was good. As the most valued guest, he sat right across from Draco and had managed to make the dull tea party and dinner fun. Draco could tell he devoted a lot of effort to remember and follow pureblood traditions. A lot of the traditions were bull, Draco would admit it himself. When he really make Head of the Malfoy family, he would definitely cancel those. But there were traditions that were just like Christmas, and valuable to Draco. Expectantly, wines and cutleries were difficult for Potter, and Draco secretly moved the right one every time Potter hesitated. Potter knew, of course, as his eyes were smiling when he looked at Draco.

It just felt too much like there’s no one else there. All Draco could see was that handsome face and those emerald eyes, so green and as if talking to him. His heart just wouldn’t be still whenever he sees him, and Draco just hated that.

There’s just no way Potter should have so much influence over him, not when he’s so happily in love with James.

His heart warmed just at the thought of James. They were quite similar, actually. Maybe Draco had a type. Normally awkward but cute, but fierce and powerful when the situation requires. The only difference was James was just a normal guy, while Potter had everything and more. But Draco was fine with normal. The brand of an ex-death eater was still on his back, so normal was appreciated.

Maybe he just needed time. Time spent with James and _away_ from Potter, so he would finally be able to bury everything about Potter.

But then again, he might be lying to himself, as the past ten years he spent without seeing Potter didn’t make any difference. Right now, for whatever reason, Potter wanted Draco to like him. To be honest, he didn’t even have to try. He just has that kind of influence over Draco. The only other person who had that kind of power over Draco was James…

Draco frowned. Merlin, this wine tasted weird.

——

The night proceeded with a blur of fragrance, jewellery and liquor.

Draco followed father or mother around, carrying out meaningless conversations, and excusing himself whenever he saw Potter was about to die from a conversation Pansy wasn’t able to save him from.

‘This is really difficult, isn’t it.’ Draco teased after he saved Potter from the Greengrass sisters who Pansy had beef with and wouldn’t talk to.

‘Merlin this is really difficult, way more than the normal events I attend. I really don’t know how you could do so well with these kinds of events.’ Potter said as he downed his glass, ‘And I got declined by your bartender when I asked for apple juice. But, I could use the alcohol.’

‘Sorry.’ Draco tried to suppress his smile, ‘If I fully planned this, there would be apple juice. But mother doesn’t appreciate the art of irony and deception —— how do you normally deal with events like this?’

‘Cross my fingers and hope Hermione is available.’ Potter said with a frustrated smile, ‘Or pull my invisibility cloak over my head and hope no one was as astute as you.’

Oh, that.

‘Sorry.’ Draco grimaced.

‘I already told you to stop apologising.’ Potter said. Draco was surprised to find he was a light weight, as by this point, his face was very pink and his eyes were glinting, their emerald colour more bright and resplendent than they used to be, Draco could hardly look into them without shying away, but he also could hardly stop himself from looking into them.

And just then, Potter moved closer, the fragrance of malt so delicious and so close that Draco had to hold his breath: ‘Don’t worry about it. I… what I did to you, was far worse. I don’t know why I thought I was entitled to hold anything against you. The scars I left you…’

Then he apologised: ‘Sorry. Sorry. I need… I need some ice water. Excuse me.’

He was so close. Too close. Too close that… Draco couldn’t move for a long time after he was gone.

——

Draco was watching mother patching things up with Mrs. Keepin when he felt an arm suddenly around his; then there’s the sugary voice of Pansy: ‘Sorry Mrs. Malfoy. I need to borrow Draco for a moment.’

After years of friendship with Pansy, Draco knew when to listen to her. He smiled to mother and let Pansy pull him away, though once they were away from the crowd, he asked irritated —— more irritated than he used to be: ‘What? I was about to charm Mrs. Keepin into grounding her son and maybe kick him out of her will. This better not be some fight with Blaise because I will…’

‘Pick me.’ Pansy interrupted Draco, she was also quite stunning today, with her black slit silk dress and sapphire necklace, probably to promote her design, and her eyes are now bright and determined, shutting Draco up immediately, ‘I talked to a few girls that got invited, and found out your father is about to sandbag you. He had told the others that this would also be your engagement party —— he’s going to ask you to pick your fiancé out from the crowd for the opening dance. Yes. I know as well as you do that you don’t have one, but you will be forced to pick one, and whoever you pick will automatically become your fiancé.’

Draco stopped abruptly; all the blood in his body went cold.

It’s not below father. Or, he should have seen it coming. Father had been nice, too nice. It was to paralyse and ambush Draco. If father really asked him out of the blue, he would only have two choices: either randomly pick out a witch and get engaged, or make a scene and be a disgrace to his family.

‘Pick me.’ Pansy said again, ‘We can pretend for a while, then I’ll get caught cheating on you with Blaise or something, then we break it off. That should buy you some time.’

Draco looked around the tiring display of fake smiles and conspicuous luxury, and somehow, he easily found those emerald eyes in the crowd, he didn’t know what he expected to get from doing that, didn’t know who he expected to see behind those emerald eyes, but the moment he saw them, he was calm. They locked with his, bright and dazzling because of alcohol, but Draco could almost see the reflection of himself in it, his own silver eyes cold and lucid like ice and snow.

For the first time in his life, he was courageous and reckless.

‘No.’ He said.

Pansy widened her eyes, not catching up with what he was saying: ‘What? Are you really going to do what your father wants? After all that?’

‘No.’ Draco repeated.

——

Draco was calm. Really. He was calm when the time arrived, and he was called by father to go up the stairs to stand under the heraldry.

On his way up, he thought that maybe years later, he would still remember the feeling of ascending those stairs.

He remembered the stairs of the astronomy tower, every step he walked with fright and hesitation, and then there are these stairs now right in front of him. He was walking the most determined, and unrepentant steps of his life.

Not the road leading to be the next head of the Malfoy family, but to be Draco Malfoy.

‘No.’

Was what he said to father when father announced he shall pick his fiancé from the crowd for the opening dance.

Buzz ran through the crowd immediately, everyone was confused, giving him surprised and weird looks. Draco spared a glance at mother, she had a hand pressed over her mouth and tears in her eyes, and Draco knew that even though she didn’t know what father was planning or what Draco was about to do, she knew this would eventually happen. No matter how hard she tried to mediate the differences between the Malfoy father and son, she couldn’t stop her son from becoming the man of his own. And she wasn’t going to.

‘What.’ Father said. The word rolled off his tongue condescendingly, a clear and frightening threat.

Draco could see his lip twitch, and he knew his father was at the edge of exploding. He had pushed father to this point very few times, but he knew father could be a terrifying man once that happened. Though this time, this time he wasn’t going to tear up, wasn’t even flinching.

‘No, father.’ He said calmly, ‘I will not devote myself to anyone less than the one I love, I believe you’ve invited some of the best witches of my generation, but unfortunately, I could not bear the responsibility of husband and father with any of them.’

His voice wasn’t loud, but many of the guests heard him clear. Gasps and whispers were surging through the crowd.

Father’s face rose an angry red, but he suppressed his voice so no one other than Draco could hear, and demanded one last time: ‘Pick. One. Draco. And I’ll forget you ever said that. Or, or I will disown you.’

Draco just looked up, straight at him, his eyes defiant: ‘I will not. If that’s the condition of you seeing me as your son, I wave my right of succession.’

And that was it.

He could see the thin string snap and his father raised his cane, Draco instinctively turned away and raised his arms to block it.

But it never landed.

There were surprised gasps and squeals from the crowd, when Draco looked over, he saw Potter’s back, straight and staunch, and he had father’s cane grabbed easily in his hand.

‘Mr. Malfoy.’ He said rather cheerfully, ‘I don’t believe you intended to embarrass yourself.’

The sound of discussion was through the roof, but father was furious, he was not going to tolerate being challenged: ‘Move away Mr. Potter. This is family business. I am aware that you are my son’s boy toy, but that doesn’t give you any say in this.’

And that did it.

‘You want to solve the family business, father?’ Draco said scathingly.

Slowly he looked up at their family heraldry. _With the highest respect to Salazar Slytherin, the Malfoy family heraldry uses the colour black, silver and green, and is guarded by two black dragons and a two-headed snake. On the silver ribbon, the motto_ _‘Sanctimonia Vincet Semper’ was engraved._ That’s what he learned from his earliest heir education, beaten into him word for word by father’s cane. And they both know that this particular heraldry had a different purpose than the others.

‘ _Revocrown._ ’ Draco pointed his wand at it and whispered.

The heraldry came to life.

The two-headed snake hissed at the command, and the two black dragons flew up into the air, circled solemnly until they settled, one on each side of Draco’s.

Father went pale. The heraldry had been deciding the head of the family for hundreds of years. If the Malfoy family's ancient magic admitted Draco as an heir, Draco would only be able to command one of the black dragons —— only the head of the family could command both.

‘I already am the head of the Malfoy family, father.’ Draco said placidly, ‘I have been for years.’

‘You…’ father was on the verge of fainting, and mother quickly came to his side, held him and whispered pleadingly: ‘Oh Lucius.’

‘Settled then.’ Came Potter’s joyful voice, ‘Pleasant party, Draco. But I wish to make my exit now. I’m afraid the Manor is too big for me to remember the way. Would you please show me the way out?’

Draco looked up to him, held his smiling gaze for a second, and gestured for him to follow.

Before he left, he walked up and kissed mother on both cheeks, as they both knew he wasn’t coming back to the manor for the night, and probably wouldn’t for a while.

——

They walked in silence for a while, before Draco said: ‘It’s you, right?’

‘Huh?’ The man was confused for a second, mirth still dancing in his emerald eyes.

Draco slipped his hand into his: ‘You said you would come. I’m glad you came. I want to see your face —— At least I should get to see my boyfriend on my birthday.’

‘Um, yeah, okay.’ The man said as he scrambled his pocket for his wand and cast the spell, his face shifting back to that of James Evans, ‘Sorry your birthday went like that.’

‘How many did you have to drink?’ Draco asked as they stopped right outside the gate of the Manor, pulled the man close as he stroked his flushed cheek, looking closely at the face of the man he loves.

‘Not much.’ The man said as he looked lost in Draco’s eyes.

He was definitely drunk. Although he was a concealed drunk, looked basically normal, but he was a bit slow and confused about everything, curious about Draco’s eyes and hair and everything remotely novelty, and unusually happy. His hand was warmer than usual, and clumsier as he struggled to be gentle with holding Draco’s hand. Draco could tell if he hadn’t been drunk, he probably wouldn’t interfere as a hero to save Draco as if he were a damsel in distress. At least not so happily.

He was cute. Draco smiled a little.

Draco’s smile apparently fascinated him, he blushed hard, seemed sheepish and awkward, looking at Draco with his head tilted and through his eyelashes.

‘Is it okay that we apparate to the dungeon?’ Draco asked, leaning in close, his lips millimeters away, seducing the man in for a kiss, ‘I mean you came as his double, right? Will Potter be okay without you? I’ll do the apparation. You are way too drunk.’

‘Um, yeah, I think so.’ The man said, leaning in for the temptation.

Draco kissed him.

After the kiss, Draco pulled out his wand, but before he cast the spell, he said lightly: ‘You know, I wonder how Potter knew I had scars from sixth year.’

The man stopped abruptly and fell silent.

‘The way you talked and acted, was so much like him.’ Draco said slowly, ‘But you were trained to pretend to be him, right? The shampoos and perfumes, I presume you used the same. So what, you spent a lot of time with him, you became friends, and you told him that?’

‘I… I did spend a lot of time with him. But…’ The man looked down at the back of his hand, and Draco knew what he was looking for.

The ‘I must not tell lies’ scar.

All the other things Draco could write up as insignificant or coincidence. But this? No one knew Potter cut him. He wouldn’t have been able to know the scars were left by Potter. Potter was not the kind to mention that incident, nor would the man the kind to talk about details of the body of his sex partner with anyone. Not to mention, they had a contract. The man shouldn’t be able to talk about their interaction with anyone, in particular Potter, bound by the unbreakable vow.

Draco held the back of the man’s neck, leaned in until they were forehead against forehead, his wand slowly pointed under the man’s chin, then whispered against the man’s lips: ‘Do you trust me?’

The man didn’t say anything, but he didn’t draw his wand, just closed his eyes, so hard that there were tiny wrinkles on his eyelids.

Draco then drew one last deep breath.

‘ _Finite Incantatem_.’


	21. Twist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout you’ve all been expecting. Pansy being a good friend. Draco being Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Mika. 
> 
> DON’T EXPECT TOO MUCH!!!   
> DON’T EXPECT TOO MUCH!!!   
> DON’T EXPECT TOO MUCH!!! 
> 
> I want to say Draco was good at lying to himself, but once he stopped lying to himself about his father, he had to stop lying to himself about Harry too. 
> 
> It’s not a very good story, be tolerant.

The glamour faded.

The face that once again appeared in front of Draco’s eyes, was that of ebony hair and emerald eyes —— the face of no other than Harry Potter.

Draco breathed out shakily.

The man —— Potter, fuck, it’s Potter —— Potter reached to hold Draco’s face, but Draco stepped back, his wand still pointing at Potter, though even he tried his best, his voice was broken, on the verge of tears: ‘You had enough fun yet?’

Potter tried a few times, before he managed to say: ‘I’m sorry.’

He tried reaching for Draco again, but Draco raised his wand and shook his head, his face reddened by anger and shame: ‘Don’t.’

Potter stopped, raised his hands, palms facing Draco gesturing he’s not going to do anything, the expression of hurt clear on his face, as if a kicked puppy.

Draco’s heart… let’s say shuddered at that. Then he got even angrier, as that bastard had the balls to look hurt after everything he did.

‘I can’t believe that I…’

He felt ridiculous, that after everything, after all those years, his heart still belonged to Potter. He was so foolish to think he had found his salvation.

He couldn’t believe that he was so blind. Or if he was honest to himself, that he lied to himself for so long. Just like he knew father couldn’t just simply be nice, but he wanted to believe their relationship was getting better, so he lied to himself, he did the same thing with Potter: he wanted to believe the perfect James loved him, so he turned a blind eye to all things screaming at him that he was Potter.

He could see the young Potter, not knowing he had Draco’s heart at his feet, looking at him with those cold emerald eyes, telling him: _you are pathetic_.

‘How could you…’ His tears fell.

Pathetic. That he was.

Really. It wasn’t like Potter was trying very hard to hide who he was. Draco could recognise him when his face was barely recognisable as a face; he wasn’t fooling anyone saying he couldn’t recognise Potter when he was using his own face. He just didn’t want to admit, so he didn’t have to lose the best thing that’s ever happened. Draco only had himself to blame, and he was angry at himself, for being such a coward, and for after all this, his heart was aching so bad, still longing for Potter.

‘Draco.’ Potter said, backed away a bit as Draco pushed his wand forward, his eyes shimmering with every word, ‘For what it’s worth, I never lied to you.’

Draco looked at him with disbelief, and Potter awkwardly tried to explain: ‘Well, James is Potter’s middle name, and technically I said Evans as a question. And the face, I told you it’s the face I usually wear when I’m not at the dungeon. Everything else… everything else I didn’t lie.’

‘Your midd… Seriously? And you always refer to yourself in the third person?’ Draco felt ridiculous and irritated, then he shook his head, ‘I’m not arguing these details with you —— Merlin! You are unbelievable.’

‘Please, Draco.’ Potter took one step closer, not caring Draco’s wand was digging into his chest, ‘Can we please talk about this? I… I wanted to tell you. I tried to tell you. But you didn’t…’

‘Then, why didn’t you?’ Draco cast a repellent spell, and Potter stumbled back, his hand nursing over his chest where the spell hit, ‘Is it so hard to just say “Hi. Sorry but I’m Harry fucking Potter”?’

The spell wasn’t harsh, but It took Potter a moment to get his voice back: ‘I can’t. I literally… can’t.’

But he couldn’t talk very well, all he could do was try not to cough and struggled to breath, and Draco was furious and ashamed, he shouted as his tears fell uncontrollably: ‘Then you shouldn’t do it from the beginning! All those things you did to me… I let you did to me… How could you?’

And then Draco remembered —— the beginning.

How he had looked at Draco the first time, they met —— the cold emerald eyes, how he grabbed Draco’s hair and threw him into the table, how he taunted Draco at his fear and pain, how he was reluctant to do the aftercare.

How he had been ruthless and vindictive.

Oh.

So that… that was how Potter saw him, saw how he was fit to be treated.

‘You hated me.’ Draco could almost feel the cold and taunting eyes watching as he made a show of himself, as he opened up his body for him to play. The pain was weighing Draco down as if hooks yanked at every organ in his body; he could barely stand straight, his voice barely a whisper.

Then it dawned on him. This —— what they have, couldn’t have been real. It was too good, too quick, and too effective. How long was it —— two months? And he just went from hating Draco to crazy in love with him? No way. It’s just simply impossible.

He had been too willing to believe that he was loved by the perfect man of his dream that he lied to himself again.

‘This… this is your revenge.’ Draco whispered.

And he was such a fool, handing Potter every knife he needed to stab him with.

What was Potter thinking, was he having a laugh internally when Draco told him he was in love with him? Was that where all this cruel plan of revenge started? Ah, yes. Thinking about it, it was then that their relationship started to develop outside the dungeon. Such torment. So painful. What a successful revenge. And he had tricked him, manipulated him into falling deeper for his real self too. Maybe just so one day he could grab Draco’s hair, accuse him of being unfaithful, call him a slut. Not to mention, Draco was now out on bail, his name dragged through the mud and disowned by his family, all courtesy of Potter.

‘You took…’ Draco’s hand fisted the robe above his heart; he was feeling so much pain that he almost laughed and laughed at himself at the Yule Ball, thinking that it felt like to have his heartbroken. No. This was. ‘You took everything from me.’

‘No, please, Draco, listen to me.’ Potter said as he grabbed Draco’s wrist, ‘It was not some plan to use my…Ah!’

The red ring of magic burned at Potter’s wrist again, and he knelt down at the pain, losing his grip on Draco.

Draco wasn’t going to prolong his humiliation by listening and maybe falling for Potter’s trick again, so he took the chance and apparated.

Potter struggled to look at him before he apparated away, his emerald eyes sad and Draco felt as if they tore something from his chest.

He managed to escape, but his heart stayed stubbornly.

——

Someone yanked the curtain open roughly.

Draco groaned on his bed, turned his back to the strong light as he was too sensitive after drowning his sorrows in bottles. His movement sent a few empty bottles rolling to the ground, one unfortunate bottle smashed, but Draco couldn’t care less.

‘What the fuck did you do that for?!’ Draco cursed as he made out the intruder was Pansy bloody Parkinson, ‘What’s gotten into you, you mean bitch.’

‘To make you miserable.’ Pansy smiled.

‘Sadistic.’ Draco commented. ‘You should ask for a job at the dungeon.’

‘What dungeon?’ Pansy asked as she spelled the window open and the glass shards away, tidying the mess of Draco’s apartment as a best as she could.

‘Nothing.’ Draco groaned.

‘I take it you know.’ Pansy said as she threw herself on Draco’s bed by his side, helping him sit up by piling pillows behind his back.

‘And I take it you already know and _didn’t bother to fucking tell me_.’ Draco bit back.

‘You would check me into a loony bin before believing me that he was Potter.’ Pansy shrugged, ‘And it wasn’t my place to tell you.’

‘Well, _fuck you_.’ Draco cursed as he threw a random magazine he had on his bed to Pansy.

‘Hey, you are the one who couldn’t recognise your crush of more than a decade, _after you slept with him,_ ** _ **for six month**_** ** _ **s**_** _._ ’ Pansy caught the magazine, and laughed as she turned the front page to Draco, ‘At least this poor magazine will go bankrupt after the truth come out.’

The front page said: ****The Malfoy Heir Denies: I’m neither fucking Potter nor dating Potter.****

‘Oh, fuck you.’ Draco took the magazine back and threw it to the corner.

‘Seriously he told you his name was James Evans. There are no lamer aliases than that.’ Pansy smirked.

‘His parents were before our time! Everyone just knew them as _the Potters_! James Potter and Lily _Potter_! She was muggle-born! How the hell was I supposed to know her maiden name?! My parents didn’t talk about her _muggle_ family name, and Severus never wanted to talk about her!’ Draco shouted back, then stared at Pansy, ‘You just came to rub it in?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact.’ Pansy said as she pulled out the newest edition of _Witch Weekly_ , and Draco grabbed it from her.

Someone got a picture of Potter kneeling in front of Draco in pain. But the picture was taken from a long distance away, of very bad quality, with branches and bushes shielding them, making it impossible to see Potter’s painful expression or Draco’s angry expression, the only thing one could tell from the picture was that Potter was kneeling on one knee in front of Draco.

 ** **E**** ** **very Cloud Has A**** **** ** **Silver**** ** **Lining?**** The title went. _Young Malfoy Proposed by the Saviour after Disowned by his Family._

‘Oh, ****Fuck****.’ Draco shouted.

Pansy, the bitch, giggled: ‘They are actually quite close to the truth, aren’t they.’

‘No, they are not.’ Draco buried himself in his soft pillows, ‘I broke things off with him.’

‘I figured. Or you two would be at it like bunnies.’ Pansy said as she put a bag of pack and go breakfast on Draco’s bed, handing him a bottle of yogurt first, ‘Here, you need to eat something —— actually, I came to talk to you about that. Why did you break up with Potter?’

Draco looked up at her abruptly: ‘No, you didn’t.’

‘What?’ Pansy asked.

‘You are on his side now! He poached you when you helped him prepare for my birthday, didn’t he?’ Draco was furious, picked up a pillow and hit Pansy with it, ‘We grew up together! You are supposed to be my friend! I already forgive you once when you betrayed our friendship and was closer with Blaise once you met him at school! Now you are betraying me for Potter?! I pulled you through Potions for seven years! What did he ever do for you?’

‘Oh, stop it!’ Pansy hit him back with another pillow, ‘Just answer me. Why did you break up with him! And don’t pull that “it’s his revenge” bull on me! I have two perfectly functioning eyes and I can see Potter was head over heels for you!’

Draco stopped.

Then he took the bottle of yogurt, took a big gulp and fell back down onto the bed; he was quiet for a while, then he said: ‘Can’t I just be in love with the normal guy James and didn’t want the whole charade of ex-death eater dating the Saviour?’

Pansy snorted as she shoves Witch Weekly into his face again: ‘Well then, you are doing a fantastic job at it, getting all the press without actually dating him. Tell me, is it any consolation finding out you’ve actually been dating Potter while all these troubles happened? If Potter really was that good in bed…’

‘Shut it!’ Draco really couldn’t be reminded of their nights spent together. They took a whole new meaning now that he knew it was actually Potter he’s been fucking with, ‘Why can’t I hate all that trouble? Can’t I just want a simple relationship that has nothing to do with Potter?’

‘Then why are you keep framing these as questions?’ Pansy said as she pushed Draco’s hair behind his ear, holding Draco’s gaze as she said, she was rarely this gentle, but she could be a very good friend when she wanted to be, ‘You are a Slytherin, and a Malfoy, when are you ever against the spotlight or the fame? You loved it. You live by it. Anyone who can deal with it, it’s you. I only wonder why Potter didn’t hire you as his publicist or something a decade ago. You are not someone who can’t handle a high profile relationship. That is not why you broke up with Potter.’

‘What’s so important about why I broke up with Potter?’ Draco was annoyed, ‘We broke up! End of story! What do you expect, a happily ever after?’

‘Aha!’ She said triumphantly, jumped on Draco’s bed, abandoning Draco immediately, ‘That is why you broke up with Potter. Because you don’t think it will end well, so you bailed before it actually went bad. So what, you can be the one that got away, and you will always be the perfect man Potter can’t get?’

Damn it. You just have to be extremely careful when you talk with a Slytherin. Every word you said can and will be used against you.

‘Could you please go fuck Blaise and leave me alone? I’m not above begging.’ Draco said sullenly, ‘I really… I really can’t deal with this now.’

She looked at him, sighed, leaned down, and took Draco’s head on her knees even more gentle than moments before: ‘I heard a few things from Potter. I was _mad_ at first, because I knew what he meant to you, and him dating you without telling you who he was? I wanted to rip him into smithereens. But, things don’t always happen as we wish. And we are Slytherins, Draco; we couldn’t care less about morality. We always use, if not turn, the situation to our best benefit. You have the good looks, and the personality that drives him crazy in both the good way and bad, you have his heart and his guilt, if you use it really well, he will never be able to escape your charm.’

The way she said it, it sounded so tempting, like a Siren tempting the sailors.

Slytherins don’t respond to the true love conquers all bullshit. But strategy and advantage? They made sense. Now he had the chance of a lifetime to be with the man he desired for years, a chance he thought he would never have. One thing he knew he would never do again, no matter how Gryffindor that sounded, was to run away from who he really was, and who he wanted to be. If Potter was what he wanted, well, he just had to have it.

‘Go get him, viper.’ She said as she saw the familiar expression of a confident and determined Draco Malfoy.

——

But. Easier said than done.

It took Draco quite some courage to go to the dungeon again. This time, he saw a lot of things he made himself ignore.

He had always been extremely sensitive to Potter’s magic, and he could feel himself passing through the thin and invisible magic shield of Potter’s when he entered the door, all the cells in his body excited at just that, knowing Potter must be immediately alerted of his presence.

He went down the stairs and went into the party room he had never been in before —— where again, they are holding a Potter’s night.

The night was still young, and everyone was mostly civil, just harmless and covert flirting, but the room was secretly restless with heat and hormones in the erotic dim light. At just one glance, Draco estimated there were about a dozen Potters in the room with enough similarity to pass as the real Potter to everyone who doesn’t know him enough, and a dozen more with just the scar, hair and eye colour but of different face, different build, different age and personality. One beautiful woman by the bar, scar and black hair and green eyes and all that, wearing a black strapless dress and red sole high heels, caught Draco’s eyes for more than a few seconds.

Despite all the Potters in the room, it didn’t take Draco long to find the real deal.

Potter was inconspicuous as ever, sitting with his back against the corner where he could get the best view of the whole room, nursing a cup of… something black, on rocks. The white shirt he was wearing was crumpled, like he had worn it and slept on a couch, probably cleaned with cleaning charms but was bad with ironing charm. His hair was wilder than usual; he must have spent an unusually long time flying, as Draco knew that’s how Potter dealt with his problems since in Hogwarts. He was rather tense, as he knew Draco was now in this club, those emerald eyes looked around from time to time, searching for Draco.

But Draco was wearing a glamour of his own today, not wanting to risk being recognised.

For a second, he felt quite ridiculous, as people in this room were probably all obsessed with Potter in some way, and almost all the Potters were chased after like flowers that attracted bees, but none was wise enough to see the real diamond when it was just right in front of their eyes.

Maybe, just maybe, like Ginevra Weasley, they are all just obsessed with the dream version of Potter they cooked up in their mind, that’s why all the other Potters were more popular than the real Potter. To Draco, and only to Draco, Harry James Potter was his dream version, as the composed and caring Dom, as the awkward and cute man outside the dungeon, as the brutal and vulgar man in the bed, even without the good looks and fame and fortune, as an entirely different man —— probably as truthful as he could be, as for the first time he was truly free to be who he was, hidden behind another face —— and Draco was in love with him all over again, if not more, and as true and deep as it could be this time.

It felt good actually, to love someone when you knew your love was as true and sincere as it could be, and you were the right choice, a better choice than all others, to the one you love.

But. No one said being loved by Draco Malfoy was a flat road to happiness. He’s going to torture Potter just a little bit more.

Draco took a seat by the female Potter, and started a friendly conversation.

It didn’t take him long before he got the attention of a few other Potters, as apparently the Drarry slash was something people already picked up at school, becoming a trend as the breaking news of Potter’s propose hit the papers after all these years, a lot of the Doms interested in role-playing Potter were interested in bratty subs such as Draco himself, with a similar physique to Draco… in other words, Draco.

It wasn’t long before Draco felt those truly predatory emerald eyes on him, burning through his glamour and possibly, his clothes.

He looked up, holding Potter’s gaze coldly, and with a confident sneer on his face, he stretched his body languidly, the line of his body tantalising in the erotic lights.

He had picked a lilac silk shirt with a deep V neck and a pair of tight white pants, especially for today, perfect for his skin tone and hair colour. He looked like a brat with too much gold who didn’t care and just wanted some good night. And his attitude? The way he worked the crowd, provoked and flirted with the Doms, he was asking for trouble.

As Draco downed his cocktail, he spared a glance at Potter, silver eyes cold as if he couldn’t care less but provocative in the way a younger Potter wouldn’t be able to bear a second.

Oh, it’s game on now Potter. I have put the golden snitch in your sight. What will you do?


	22. South

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco’s plan going south.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be patient, be tolerant. 
> 
> Again thanks to Mika.

The party room got more heated as the night proceeded, and Draco was no doubt at the centre of the spotlight.

Draco was worried about that glass in Potter’s hand as Ruby —— the female Potter, the Potters each had a bracelet of gem and the name of the the gem on their wrist as distinguish markers —— leaned in and whispered in his ear: ‘Naughty boy. You act like a little slut out for fun, but the only one you care about? Is Emerald. I happen to know that man quite well, and you forcing his hand like this? It’s not going to go down the way you think, pretty boy, it’s not going to end well for you.’

‘Is that so.’ Draco smirked as he arched his brow.

Ruby narrowed her eyes, then slapped Draco on his thigh: ‘Go clear your head before you do anything you’ll regret later.’

Draco shrugged, but took her advice and excused himself from the gathering of Doms nonetheless to splash some cold water on his face.

It was not long before Potter followed him in.

Draco didn’t have to look up to know it was Potter who came in and closed the door behind him.

Draco took his time, washed his hands thoroughly before he splashed water on his face and looked up in the mirror. Even with water dripping from his eyelashes, he could see Potter’s expression was cold. He felt every cell in his body vibrating at that, trembling in fear while simultaneously rising to the challenge at the same time.

‘Why are you here.’ Somehow, Potter was at ease, his posture elegant and relaxed, the emerald eyes staring into Draco’s silver eyes through the mirror.

‘And this is your business, how?’ Draco retorted.

Potter wasn’t provoked, just said calmly: ‘Since you came back, I want to start with apologising again for keeping you in the dark. Whatever reason I have, I hurt you deeply, that is inexcusable. However, I do believe our conversation was left unfinished last time, and no matter where our conversation leads to, we still need to talk.’

‘Like hell, we are.’

Draco turned to leave; he managed to pass Potter without blinking, bumping into Potter on purpose. To his surprise, Potter didn’t stop him by grabbing his arm or anything, but before he reached the door, Potter said without turning: ‘If you leave by that door, I will consider our Dom-sub contract over.’

That shouldn’t have affected Draco, but Draco just froze, couldn’t take another step forward or reach for the doorknob. And Potter had the audacity to say coldly: ‘You made three unforgivable mistakes. One, I have given you my collar, and no matter what happens between us, before we formally break off the contract, you are still my sub. The way you behaved today, you have disrespected me in front of other Doms. Two, when you came to me, you asked me to punish you for being a bully, so I consider myself to have educated you on that matter for quite a while now. That means, I tried to teach you never deliberately talk or act in ways that would hurt others. I do think you’ve made a lot of progress; therefore, I can’t have you slipping back into your old bad habits. Three, I have taught you to talk things through with me first, you running away, trying to escape our conversation, will only cause you more trouble. If you decide to stay in our contract, the punishment for each of these three mistakes will start immediately, and it will be severe. I will only take you back as my sub after you have completed all of the punishments. We will have our conversation after that, since you are so against it. By then, I hope, your attitude should be better.’

What he said provoked Draco, he irritatedly turned and stride up to Potter, leaned in till the tips of their noses were inches apart and challenged him: ‘I have a better idea, why don’t you just throw that spell at me again, aim better this time, and save me a whole lot of trouble?’

Potter’s eyes didn’t so much as ripple: ‘I would like to formally apologise for that too, as I haven’t got around to it even though years had passed. This is my mistake, and we will talk about it later.’

‘Forget it.’ Draco felt frustrated and turned to leave, ‘You also saved my life, so call it even.’

Potter shook his head, but didn’t say anything about it, just looked to the wall next to the door, and another door appeared on the wall, stopping Draco immediately again: ‘Exit by that door, I will take it as you’ve chosen to continue our contract, and are willing to take your punishment. At any point during the punishment, you can decide against taking more punishment, change your mind and break off the contract. Otherwise, you can ask for a time out, but I won’t commute your sentence —— right now, I will tell you your sentence for the first count, so you can decide whether you want to take it: since you disrespected me publicly, you will take your punishment on the stage. For each Dom in that room that saw you disrespect me, you get five strikes by the paddle, and for every Dom, you flirted with, you get five strikes by the cane of their choosing.’

Draco’s body tensed at the mention of the stage, and by the time Potter finished, his hands which he hid in his pockets were trembling a bit.

Potter didn’t wait to see what Draco choose, he walked through the second door and left Draco behind alone, maybe to give him some room to decide, and Draco closed his eyes. It’s not a fair fight, really. He knew before he came, that he would lose the minute he laid his eyes on Potter. He didn’t come to win; he came to lose. He just wanted to indulge himself a bit before that, but Potter wasn’t going to even give him that.

It wasn’t much of a choice, really. His traitorous heart made up its mind a long time ago. But the stage. The stage was something Draco hesitated over.

During his stay at the dungeon earlier, Draco had never shown himself in public places such as the party room before, not wanting the bad press of the Malfoy heir visiting a sex dungeon. He mostly just hide away in Room 6. The only other person that had ever seen him was the Dom from room 7, and then Draco was drunk. He had only known about the stage as where sometimes Doms do performances with their subs, and sometimes used for special punishment as Potter was about to. He wasn’t fully against public display, and today he was using a different face, similar to his own, but he was comfortable enough to get on the stage.

He moved and opened the door, found himself in a small closed space, and saw Potter sitting with his legs crossed and hands folded on his knees, on a chair that was against another door right across from Draco.

Potter looked up to him, arched a brow, apparently surprised as he looked like he planned to wait quite some time as per the chair, but he didn’t say anything, just stood up as he said: ‘I’m glad you came.’

Draco didn’t say anything.

The chair disappeared as he stood up, and as Potter opened the door that led to the stage, Draco saw a half-transparent layer of silver curtain draped in front of the stage. In contrast, the back wall of the stage was black, symbolising what’s about to happen on the stage was a punishment rather than red if it were a performance.

‘I am a rather possessive person, and kind of sick of disguises by now, so I think it’s better this way.’ Potter said as he almost ripped the glamour from Draco’s face, then pushed Draco between his shoulders, ‘Strip.’

Draco stumbled onto the stage, hesitating a second as he realised this was going to be the first time he strips in front of Potter since he knew he was Potter.

Whispers were coming from under the stage: ‘Who’s doing the show? Emerald? Really?’

‘He ought to. Judging by the way that sub was behaving, it’s long overdue.’

‘That’s just how he likes them —— Emerald, always up for a challenge, training a brat, or care for the needed.’ Came Ruby's sexy voice, ‘Besides, you all think that sub is cute, didn’t you?’

Draco yelped as he felt stinging in both palms, he knew it’s Potter punishing him for not following his order immediately. He knew he probably only had a few seconds at most to decide whether he was going to comply like Potter taught him, or was he going to fight Potter every step of the way. He had wanted Potter to suffer a little, burn in the fire of jealousy and endure the frustration of being pushed down into a disadvantaged position. But it wasn’t his intention to humiliate Potter. Potter probably didn’t care, but how he behaved would reflect on Potter as a Dom, and though he wanted to mess with Potter, Draco didn’t want Potter taken lightly as a Dom, because he really was a good Dom.

He’ll just… he’ll just mess with Potter when they were alone later.

‘Sorry, sir.’ Draco made up his mind, said as he used his wand to spell off and fold his clothes fast, then he got down on his knees, handed his wand over to Potter respectfully.

Potter just opened his hand, and Draco’s wand was taken from him as if sucked away by a strong magnet. Draco couldn’t help but paused a second, not really surprised by how powerful the man was, as he now knew it’s Potter, literally the strongest wizard alive, but aroused by it. Luckily he still remembered the manners Potter taught him and held his elbows behind his back quickly.

‘Emerald taught him well.’ Someone said, ‘His posture is beautiful.’

Draco couldn’t help but look up to Potter expectantly, but Potter didn’t seem to react to anything they were saying below the stage, what Draco got was a slap to his face, as the punishment for looking up without permission. Draco paused and apologised again: ‘Sorry, sir.’

‘Again and there will be extra punishment.’ Potter said as he pinched and kneaded the cheek, he just slapped.

‘…Yes, sir.’ Draco answered once Potter let go, his fingers digging into his arms to remind himself to keep his head clear and not to make any more mistakes.

Something about Potter’s attitude made him unsettled. Even from the beginning, Potter had always made him feel safe; he was always a strict Dom, but he also tended to spoil him. Similar transgressions Draco made in the past had earned a smile from Potter, he was spanked for it, but Potter had kissed his hair and ears during the punishment, making it felt more like flirting. But today it’s different. Potter rarely slapped his face, nor was he often this cold, distant, and… dominant.

Only at the beginning, and only when he was playing the role of himself, was Potter this strict with him.

Is this what Potter really was like? Draco didn’t know.

‘Say yellow if you need a time out.’ Potter said, ‘Your safe word today will be “termination”.’

Draco’s cheek was burning from the slap and pinch, he bit the inside of his cheek at the word, knowing Potter was reminding him if he decides not to take the punishment, their relationship would be over.

‘Yes, sir.’ He answered.

Potter rolled up his sleeves and loosened a few buttons. Even though Draco couldn’t look up, that casual charm of Potter’s was still stunning; he looked like a dragon rider preparing himself before taming a wild dragon, fitting really, as he was wearing black leather pants and knee-high boots, probably just got off his broom.

He raised his hand to summon something, then Draco felt a leather collar snapped around his neck, it wasn’t the usual one Potter used on him, it was broader, harder and heavier, Draco almost tilted forward as Potter pulled his hands away. As he was looking down, he saw an iron tag on the collar that reads: Stray.

That word stabbed at Draco; he had to close his eyes for a moment.

Potter yanked him up by the heavy metal chain and pulled him to the punishment bench in the middle of the stage. They used this kind of bench before, so Draco knew how Potter wanted him. As Potter locked the chain on the bench, Draco kneeled on it and supported himself by holding the rail on each side, then pushed his arse out to the exact point Potter taught him. It’s a difficult position for the punishment he’s about to endure, as there’s nothing in front of him to catch him, so he had to hold himself if he didn’t want to fell off the bench and embarrass himself.

At a quick glance, Draco knew there were twenty-two Doms aside from Potter in the room, which means a hundred and ten strokes of the paddle.

Potter adjusted the length of the chain to a point Draco couldn’t straighten his back; it put a subtle strain on his arms that Draco knew is going to make the punishment harder as it proceeds. A cold leather paddle of Potter’s choosing drew a line up Draco’s leg, over his back, then under his chin, lifting his head. Draco didn’t look up, and heard Potter say: ‘I see you’ve learned. Now you may look at me.’

Draco looked up and was caught by those emerald eyes, shivered as he realised this was really Potter who was taking in his naked form with those cold emerald eyes, Potter who had just collared him, and Potter who was holding the leather paddle under his chin, about to spank him. He hadn’t been able to think back about this part of their encounter since, and they seemed all dropped on him like a bucket of ice.

Potter. Potter. Potter. Harry, Potter.

His body twisted and ached at that name —— everything he’s against, making every cell in his body defiant, and everything he’s ever wanted, making him burn in lust. For whatever reason, he felt tears well up in his eyes, he felt embarrassed at his weakness, blinked, and the light in his eyes wavered, but he didn’t dare to look away.

That was Potter’s intention, obviously, as Potter grinned coldly, walked behind Draco and the paddling began at that.

It was a light leather paddle, not very big, a small mercy as there’s harder punishment awaiting. Potter handled it the way he always handled it, even, steady, same interval and strength, working over Draco’s arse methodically, it didn’t start to be too hard to take, but after some time, knowing the next strike would bring the same amount of pain, the feeling of desperation seep through. Draco knew Potter set out to break him, as he had always tried to interrupt Potter, ask for kisses and touches whenever Potter punished Draco in this pace, and it’s working, soon he started making small gasps and moans, struggling to hold his position.

‘Never picked Emerald as the type to spoil his sub.’ Someone teased, ‘None of my subs would ever dare to make sounds or move.’

‘He’s got good reasons.’ Someone else sighed, ‘That sub colours easy. Bet he has a low threshold for pain. Emerald was not the cruel kind like you anyway. He’s more of the caring kind.’

‘He’s not soft though.’

Draco tried to stay still, bit his lips to stop the sounds, Potter picked up on it after just two strikes, then he reached and pulled Draco’s hair back, with the chain, Draco had to bend his body backwards to cope, and he felt Potter’s canine teeth scraping the shell of his ear: ‘What are you doing?’

‘I… trying to please you, sir.’ Draco struggled to answer with the collar pressing his air pipe.

‘I am your Dom.’ Potter’s voice was cold and dominating, ‘If anything you do displeases me, I’ll tell you; I’ll punish you, I’ll teach you. You please me, no one else. And Draco, I like watching you moan and writhe under my hand, my paddle, my cane. You know what I like, Draco, don’t you?’

Yes. He did. His identity might have changed but not the man. Draco had feared things would change when Potter was no longer James, but —— he should know how to please the man, it wasn’t even difficult to do so, he just has to be… to be himself.

‘Yes, sir.’ Draco felt better and breathed out, ‘I apologise, sir.’

The paddling extended to Draco’s thigh, right where any bit lower would hurt too much. Draco wasn’t really complaining, as he knew Potter did so to avoid overlapping as much as possible. He still wasn’t very fond of canes, and taking it on already spanked arse was a first to him.

By the time Potter was done, there was a pretty shade of pink, darker at his arse and sit spot, the shade was clear and seductive even blurred a bit by the curtain, heavy breaths, praises and curses poured over were both humiliating and exciting, and Draco’s cock had become very hard.

Draco breathed out shakily as the last strike landed, he heard Potter whispering to someone, then his hair was pulled to make him turn his head. From the corner of his eye, he saw one of the Doms he flirted with picked up a regular cane; then Potter easily summoned it through the curtain as if the curtain wasn’t tangible.

‘Your manners?’ Potter pushed.

‘I apologise for the trouble I caused, sir.’ Draco said.

The Dom chuckled, tipped his hat and went back to his seat.

Potter was familiar with a cane of this size, probably just tested it to scare Draco a bit. It worked, as all the muscles in Draco’s body tensed, his breath hitched, took a few seconds before he forced himself to relax and get ready for the punishment.

The first strike had Draco almost jumping, as the painful bite of the cane hurts even worse on his softened swollen arse, he cried out and shed the first tear: ‘Ah! Sir, I…’

Potter stopped. Draco hands almost let go of the rails, he was afraid to touch the welt, so there’s nowhere they can actually go, but it’s so painful he wanted to do something escape the pain. He barely managed to hold himself, as he knew if he let go in front of the crowd, Potter would have to start the counting from the beginning.

Knowing Potter was probably waiting for a safe word, Draco adjusted his posture and evened his breath: ‘I’m sorry… sir.’

Potter didn’t say anything, just landed the next strike. Draco broke out a sob at that, braced himself till his knuckles were white while trying to relax as best as he could, and bore the full three strikes following it.

Draco breathed out a long breath and moved his fingers after it was done, then looked back as Potter lightly touched his shoulder with the cane. The second Dom had come up, and he picked out probably the thickest cane Potter had preselected.

Draco feared just looking at it, and the first strike almost tipped him over if he hadn’t grabbed on the rails hard in advance. Potter gave him as long as he needed to adjust, but that was it. He didn’t stroke Draco’s hair, didn’t kiss him or comfort him in any way. Draco wasn’t sure which hurt more, the heavy cane or the cold demeanor. He wanted so much to be able to plead and beg for intimacy and comfort, but doing so in front of the crowd probably wouldn’t bode well. In pain and longing, Draco sobbed through the entire five strikes, shaking uncontrollably.

He heard the man who previously criticised him said to the man who said Potter wasn’t soft sincerely: ‘That you were right.’

The third Dom came up —— Draco had flirted with a total of four of them, he’s seriously questioning his judgment right now —— and he picked a cane that was thinner than the first one.

‘If it’s not too much to ask, Emerald,’ he said joyfully, ‘I would like him to ask for the punishment.’

Potter didn’t respond immediately, but looked at Draco, assessed his expression, then demanded: ‘Apologise, thank me and ask for each strike. You can do that for me, pet?’

Draco nodded shakily, tears falling as his head moved: ‘Yes, sir —— I apologise for the trouble I caused. Can I please have my punishment, sir?’

And so the first strike landed, and Draco groaned.

During Draco’s previous stay, the only thing they hadn’t tried out was the canes. Draco wasn’t exactly afraid of them anymore, knowing Potter would never really hurt him badly with them, but he wasn’t exactly fond of them. And since he never made any severe transgressions back then, Potter deemed it unnecessary to use canes on him. Now, Draco gets a general idea. The thicker cane carried duller but heavier pain, involving more flesh, and though thinner canes were lighter, they bit into the flesh, and caused sharper pain. There’s really no easier way to put when it comes to canes, just a painful choice between heavier strikes or sharper bites, and balancing the two just means getting both rather than none.

Draco definitely still hates the cane.

‘I’m sorry, sir —— thank you.’ Draco struggled to hold his position as his arms were trembling lightly now, ‘May I have another please?’

He was rarely this complying. He had always tried to wiggle his way out of saying these kinds of words to Potter, he would act coquettishly, plead, or stubbornly take more punishment against following such orders, and Potter either spoiled him or gave him extra punishment, understanding he still had pride issues to work over.

This had been a novelty to Potter too, maybe it’s the severe threat of a cane, maybe it’s the public circumstance, or maybe it’s knowing for sure it’s Potter, Draco had shown unusual submission, so sweet as if a cracked pomegranate, exposing its beautiful ruby-like seeds.

He could feel those burning emerald eyes on him; Potter even had to swish the cane a few extra times to get rid of the excitement to make sure he still had the precision.

‘Ahhh! I’m sorry… sorry for my disrespectful behaviour, sir —— thank you, sir. May I have another please?’

‘I’m sorry —— sir! Www… thank you, sir, may I have another please?’

‘Ah!!! Sir… I’m sorry. Thank you, sir. May I have another please?’

Potter had him begging, again and again, his compliance pleased Potter greatly, as he could hear Potter’s breath growing heavy just a little bit, a hand briefly rested on his waist, as if he couldn’t resist getting intimate.

Ruby was the fourth Dom that came on the stage.

Potter had arranged the strikes to go from top to bottom, so now Draco’s arse was throbbing in pain, worse at the middle of his arse as the cane used there was heavier. The cane Ruby picked would land right over Draco’s sit spot, meaning she also had the right to decide how Draco’s quality of life was about to be. Although Draco only had a brief encounter with Ruby, she was kind enough to warn him —— Draco’s punishment would definitely be worse if she hadn’t, so Draco looked at her a bit pleadingly, hoping she wouldn’t give him too much trouble: ‘I apologise for the trouble I caused, madame.’

Ruby might not have been able to receive Draco’s pleading look through the curtain, but she definitely knew Draco had hoped she would let him off easier, and could hear it in his voice. However, much to Draco’s fright, she sighed and said with just a touch of apologetic and a lot of amusement: ‘Sorry, pretty boy. You deserve this.’

Her red nail polish decorated hand roamed over the canes and picked out the thinnest cane.

Even Potter raised his brow at that, took the cane slowly, held it in his hand, bending it and swinging it a few times before he walked back up to Draco, rested the cane where he intended to strike a few times before he actually landed it.

The strike almost felt like a cut, and Draco let out a squeal.

Beautiful women are poisonous.

Draco believed it now. There’s just no exception.

The second strike and he fell forward, his hands slipped on the rails, barely able to catch himself, and he wanted nothing more than to hide somehow or run. Unable to hold himself anymore, he begged: ‘Sir, please… I can’t —— please tie me up.’

Potter waved his wand and handcuffs and shackles tied Draco into place, another wide leather belt wrapped around his waist, chaining him in place to the rails on both sides till there’s not a millimetre for Draco to move.

Potter ran his hand down his back, checking Draco for one more time, then landed the last three strikes in rapid succession, so it’s easier on Draco. Draco screamed, his hands lost its grip, only stayed in place because he was chained there tight.

Then finally, finally, Potter buried his hand in Draco’s hair, he leaned down and kissed the tip of Draco’s ear lightly, and what he said was: ‘Are you alright, Draco? Well enough for me to take you?’

All the pain, fear, frustration, grievances feelings of abandonment and loneliness, suddenly just burned with lust ignited by Potter’s words. The fire burned painfully, Draco was eager to please, sobbing at the emptiness and coldness of not being kissed or caressed.

‘Yes, sir —— YES.’ Draco sobbed out.

‘What if I don’t let you come, Huh? Pet?’ Potter stroked his hair and ear, ‘Do you still want me to fuck you?’

‘ _Yes_ , sir.’ Draco said, ‘Anything… anything for you, sir. My pleasure to serve you.’

Then the rails were gone, and Draco was pushed down till only his arse was high in the air, the platform he was kneeling on expanded to support him and adjusted its height for Potter, meanwhile after just a lubricant spell and rough stretch, Potter pushed his cock up Draco’s arse.

That cock, hot and heavy, split Draco open, and Draco was incredibly hard despite the fact that it hurts so much when Potter slammed against his caned arse.

Potter —— Harry fucking Potter was fucking him.

Draco was making impossible slutty moans and squeaks of pain as Potter fucked him deep and hard, his hand pulled Draco’s hair back as leverage, just hitting Draco’s prostate brutal and precise every time, forcing the orgasm to press close.

Draco was definitely aware people are watching, as there are wolf whistles and a few laughing comments he couldn’t really make out, and all that didn’t matter a bit —— he was his Dom’s sub, his Dom’s slut, all he should care and care about, was how to please his Dom.

But then Potter whispered a spell, and it wasn’t just the magical ring Potter usually used to stop his orgasm, but as if his erection was drained, softened, and all the sweet pleasure pushed back into his body and became a dull ache.

Draco cried out in pain and frustration, his body was still aroused, but was denied its release, never so clear did Draco feel he was something that existed solely to please Potter. There was so much pleasure, but his pleasure didn’t matter, what aroused him most was the pleasure he was giving Potter, and that he should devote all his effort to do, he pushed back for every thrust, tightening his hole to please.

Potter rammed into Draco, hurting Draco as he pressed the welts, and that just made Draco’s hole contract tighter, and something —— Merlin something was pushed to an extreme.

Potter picked up on it immediately, he pulled Draco up and said by his ear: ‘You are going to come like a bitch, aren’t you pet? Orgasm dry by your pretty little arsehole?’

Draco sobbed, unable to make out an answer, Potter laughed, Draco couldn’t help but squirm under Potter’s laugh, intense gaze and fierce penetration.

‘Do it.’ Potter demanded coldly, ‘Come. I would very much like to see that —— show me the good slut you are.’

And at that, Draco came dry, it ripped through him like lightning, and he was screaming and crying, his arsehole, stimulated to the point of breakdown, wrung and sucked at Potter’s cock in abandon.

Potter, however, didn’t come.

He just pulled Draco’s arse cheeks apart and slowly pulled himself out of Draco’s spasming arsehole, with the sizable cock proudly on display, he dragged Draco off the stage by the chain.

‘I believe we should continue this in private.’

Potter said, smiling darkly as the door closed behind him, and they were again in the familiar place of Room 6.


	23. Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of talked, after Harry carried out the rest of the punishment.

Later that night, after being thoroughly fucked and spanked, not allowed to cum but dry orgasming one more time, Draco was, of course, condemned to the basket.

Potter had used him, but that was it; he had came in his own hand, denying Draco the treat. And the first thing Potter did after hydrating Draco was summon a bit gag with a thin and soft bit and a leather mask that covered half of Draco’s face, and spelled it on. He gave Draco the ring from the set, put it on Draco’s index finger after some hesitation with the rather big emerald on the inside, then traced his finger along the strips of the bit gag, making sure Draco wouldn’t really be hurt, and explained: ‘Since you think communication was a bad idea, I’m taking your ability to communicate from you, and see if that changes your mind. Of course, at any point, you can still break the contract, just turn the ring, and all the restraints will be released.’

Then he had Draco over his knee, applied a cleaning spell as well as the dittany salve, stroked Draco’s hair one final time before he locked Draco in the basket with the chain, then spelled Draco’s wrists bound with handcuffs attaching them to his collar also, preventing Draco from touching his unreleased cock or battered arse.

Draco didn’t think it was possible to sleep with his arse throbbing in pain, his cock aching with want, and knowing he wasn’t allowed to sleep by Potter’s side, but apparently, he was exhausted and fell asleep listening to Potter in the shower.

In his dream, someone sighed, stroked his hair and kissed his forehead.

——

The next morning, Draco wake up to the smell of breakfast.

Potter was gentle and patient; he fed him spoon by spoon but in silence. After he made sure everything was fine with Draco, he asked: ‘You think you are okay to proceed?’

Draco nodded, but Potter narrowed his eyes at that.

To his surprise, Potter picked him up, put him over his knee, and before they started, he gently combed Draco’s hair and pushed the stray strands behind his ear, then leaned down and whispered: ‘Today, I would like you to speak, cry, make any kind of sound or comment that you want. I’m going to use the wooden paddle on you today, two hundred strikes…’

Draco looked back, startled, and Potter held him; his hand ran down Draco’s back, kissed Draco on his forehead: ‘It’s okay. I’m healing your arse before we get to that. Okay?’

Draco looked into those warm emerald eyes, nodded hesitantly.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t take any more punishment —— it would be hard for him, even with the marks from yesterday gone, severe punishment so frequent would definitely take a toll on his psyche. But Potter being so spoiling, it felt surreal after yesterday’s coldness. To be honest, he had made a steep turn from thinking it would be pure pain and punishment when he first came to Potter (not knowing it was Potter at the time), to looking forward and wanting everything Potter does to him. It’s going to hurt a lot, he knew that, but it’s also going to be so much fun, even though sometimes he was made to wait.

‘It is my rule that all offences committed by this mouth, are cleared by this little mouth here.’ Potter said as the tip of his finger stroked Draco’s arsehole, pulling at it. It was still a bit swollen from the previous night, sensitive to the touch, Draco’s eyelashes fluttered, and Potter stroked his hair, ‘We’ll start with that today —— thirty strikes, will you be able to part your cheeks for me, pet?’

Draco nodded, rested his upper body on the bed, waited till Potter cast the healing spell as he kissed his hair one more time, and reached behind to do as Potter said.

He was beautiful like that, perfectly compliant and willing, his rosy arsehole blossoming just a bit between those pale, plump cheeks.

The first few strikes, Draco tried just to take it like a good pet, but the strikes of the wooden spoon were really painful, and there’s not just the stinging, but the sweet, yet sour pleasure vibrating deep into his hole and up his spine. And Potter was being so spoiling, he kissed and caressed Draco after each strike, and Draco could feel Potter’s gentleness eroding his resistance.

One more, and Draco cried out, Potter stopped to stroke his hair, kissed his ear and asked: ‘You want to take a break? Pet? Want me to kiss it better?’

Draco couldn’t answer, just looked back with wet eyes.

No words were needed; Potter pressed a light kiss to Draco’s eye, then put him on the bed; Draco knew what was about to come, and couldn’t help but sob a little and try to blink away the tears.

And then Potter’s tongue was at his tail bone, tracing a line down to his abused arsehole, and began licking and sucking at the rosy swollen pucker. It’s definitely the number one thing on Draco’s list of things Potter does that he couldn’t resist. Potter had never done it to him as his Dom before, and what he did now was so different from the dirty way he did it outside of a scene; he’s methodical like everything else he did as a Dom, and it’s not as intense as Draco would have liked it, but coldly teasing, making him sob and whimper, begging for more, for the orgasm he couldn’t get from it, or for the sweet torture to stop.

But his hands never let go.

When Draco was a soft crying mess on the bed, Potter asked again: ‘Want a break, Draco? Ready to go back to the punishment?’

Draco wiped his tears in the sheet, took a few shaky breaths and nodded: ‘Yes, sir. I… I think I can take it now.’

It’s how it had always been with Potter; Potter enjoyed making Draco chose between two kinds of torture, each time Draco was overwhelmed by the pain, Potter gave him the tender and unsatisfying rimming, and the strikes would hurt more on a thoroughly tongue-fucked and sensitive arsehole.

By the count of twenty, despite his own sobbing, Draco heard the doorbell rang.

Potter kissed him, walked over, looked through the peephole, and then opened the door shielding Draco with his body, his voice a bit surprised: ‘Ruby? What are you here for?’

‘You know, just making sure your pretty boy’s alright. You seemed a bit out of it lately.’ Ruby said with a little smile, ‘Your sub is cute, but a handful. There’s also something I would like to talk to him about.’

‘I appreciate your concern. I…’ Potter pondered a while, then asked, ‘How do you feel about what madame Ruby said, pet?’

Draco kind of liked her, so after a little hesitation, he agreed: ‘I would like to talk to Madame Ruby, sir.’

Potter waved a finger, and the silver curtain draped to cover Draco. But Ruby was an experienced Dom; she took one look and could tell Draco was freshly punished, unsettled from pain and arousal, but his arse was still flawlessly pale, meaning… she couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. Draco felt his cheeks burn.

She cast a privacy and shielding charm first —— though Draco suspected that shield couldn’t even stand against Potter’s _lumos_ , he appreciated the gesture —— then asked: ‘How are you?’

Draco looked at Potter; he was leaning on the door, his arms folded in front of himself a bit protectively.

‘I’m fine, madame, I think…’ Draco took a deep breath, ‘I’m okay.’

Ruby couldn’t see Draco’s expression, but she listened as carefully as possible to the details of Draco’s voice; when she was convinced, she sighed and said: ‘Emerald has his challenges. He never shared much with us, but you could tell he had a rough childhood, and adolescence wasn’t easy for him. He has commitment issues; I’ll definitely talk to him about it; I only ask you to be patient with him for the sake that he has been patiently dealing with your problems.’

‘Commitment issues?’ Draco was confused, ‘No, he doesn’t…’

Potter didn’t have commitment issues. He was emotionally involved with the speed of lightning with Draco, from giving him the collar —— true he never put it on Draco, but one doesn’t just spend a million Galleons if they were not committed, to confessing his love. Potter definitely didn’t have…

Did he?

She must have misunderstood Draco’s behaviour as retribution for Potter not wanting to commit. But she quickly realised, then said: ‘So I’m wrong then. Regardless, he is a troubled man, but among the Doms I met, he also worked the hardest against his problems, and he’s very invested in you, so I hope… I hope you’ll be the right one for him.’

Draco snorted a laugh sarcastically: ‘That’s high hopes of me. Or maybe I don’t want to deal with his trouble.’

Ruby stopped, eyed Draco closely; then she smiled: ‘So that’s it… well I should have seen it coming. Here’s my suggestion: you need to figure out what you really think, pretty boy, which is it? You are not good enough for him, or he’s not what you want?’

Before Draco could protest, she stopped pressing, turned to leave as she lifted the privacy charm: ‘Emerald, darling, sorry for the interruption. Do you best with your lovely pet, will you?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ Potter answered with a soft smile.

She patted Potter on his shoulder and left. Potter locked the door behind her, and as he walked back to Draco, spinning that wooden spoon between his fingers, he had an evil but gentle smile on his face: ‘So, Draco, which would you like to start with? The punishment,’

He said as he pointed a finger to his chafed red lips: ‘Or the treat?’

Draco trembled lightly under his gaze, lowered his head in shame and whispered: ‘Please, sir.’

Potter was more than spoiling.

By the end of the punishment, Draco was incredibly desperate for any kind of consolation to his cock and his hole, and Potter asked with his fingers stroked and pulled at the pucker: ‘You think you can take a plug up here, pet? It’s going to burn a little if I dip it in ginger oil.’

A little would be an understatement. But Draco was willing, even though he couldn’t stop whimpering: ‘Yes, sir.’

Potter kissed his tears away: ‘Good pet. I’ll dilute it. And you know to tell me if it really gets unbearable, right?’

Draco just nodded. Potter stroked his hair twice before he left to get ready, and returned quickly with a crystal plug from the set: ‘Might not be entirely appropriate, same with the ring, but I don’t want to use anything less on you —— assume your position for me?’

Draco shakily complied. By this point, the area around his arsehole was a mess. It was spanked to a delicious red, coated with shiny saliva, his hole eaten out like a timidly blossoming rose. Potter kissed it one more time before he slowly pushed in the plug.

Draco’s hole was, inappropriately probably, starved. Its first instinct to the intrusion of the plug was welcome, contracting and sucking, hoping for sweet friction and possible release. That obviously, would backfire real soon, and Draco broke out a sob.

Potter didn’t wait for the ginger oil to take it’s effect before he put Draco over his knee and started paddling Draco. He started light and steady, more arousing to Draco then punishing, but the ginger oil slowly took its effect, and Draco felt his freshly tongue-fucked hole warming up, slowly working towards burning. He couldn’t very well stay still and quiet anymore; he tried to relax, but every strike of the wooden paddle caused tensing and friction that resulted in further burning, and he sobbed and whimpered, trying in vain to stop himself from writhing and squirming.

Draco was moaning and begging meaninglessly, as the feeling was overwhelming, it’s not exactly the point he would like it to stop, but Potter stopped regardless, caressed Draco’s now pink arse gently, however after a while, as Draco calmed down a bit, his hand was getting _hot_.

Not the usual higher body temperature hot, but it’s some kind of spell, like the air around his hand was heated, and it’s causing pain alongside the comfort to Draco’s sensitive arse.

‘Sir!’ Draco cried out when the heat got more and more intense, ‘Sir… Ahh ——‘

Potter stopped at that, kissed the back of Draco’s head, waited till Draco’s cry died down, and went back to paddling.

It’s the hell of alternation again; each time Draco couldn’t handle the heat anymore, Potter went back to paddling him, and when it hurts too much, and Draco wanted to be caressed, there will be the heating treatment. Not to mention, the ginger oil was abusing its power, soon Draco felt he was burning both inside and outside, his arse bright red and swollen, his arsehole contracting involuntarily, trembling in pain and heat. He almost doubted that his arse was cooked ripe, and was crying and begging for mercy.

Potter was not the least bit irritated when Draco tried to block, tried to move away, or kicked and writhed fiercely. He kissed and hugged and caressed Draco every time till Draco calmed down and actually wanting for more, for though it was torture, it also sent him into ecstasy.

By the time the punishment ended, and Potter took Draco back into his arms, Draco’s tears had tainted his face and wet a significant part of the sheet, but he was incredibly hard, begging to be fucked.

Potter was only too happy to comply, this time indulging Draco to come as many times as he could, and frankly, Draco’s second orgasm was so close to the third they could be just one, but then it would be an incredibly long orgasm, and he shot an insane amount of cum.

‘Shh… it’s okay. You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’ Potter reassured Draco over and over again, trying to calm him from crying, running his hand down Draco’s back, ‘Now, tell me when you feel better, enough to answer a few questions for me, okay?’

That had Draco determined to make Potter comfort him for a long time, putting off the inevitable as long as possible, but he could only drag it out for so long. Once he nodded, Potter kissed him and let him kneel on the ground: ‘I know I said we need to talk, but my current situation makes it difficult for me actually to talk. It’s not ideal, but I’ll have to ask you a few questions instead. Answer me as truthfully as you can, Draco; I’ll not hold your words against you. I just want to deal with… whatever this is, however I can.’

Potter stroked Draco’s hair until Draco look up into Potter’s eyes, and asked again: ‘Why are you here.’

Draco hesitated, then shrugged: ‘To get back at you somehow.’

Potter wasn’t angry, just nodded, encouraging Draco to keep talking; Draco breathed out, looked down and said: ‘I felt… hurt. I’m not sure what I would do, but I just… I don’t know, like you said, I guess I slipped back into our old habit. I just want to leave a bite mark, not caring what you’ll do to me in return.’

Potter laughed a little, Draco looked up in surprise at that, Potter just smiled: ‘Sorry —— It’s fine. I think it’s very cute somehow, not that I encourage that kind of behaviour, no. I’m just surprised myself; I used to be…’

The red ring of magic burned at that; Potter grabbed his wrist and tightened his jaw; this time, he seemed to have a better handle on it, whispered something and pushed it down. It must hurt a lot, but he wasn’t showing it. It took Potter a moment to relax; then he apologised again: ‘Sorry. As you can see, there’s a lot I can’t say.’

It felt strange to Draco, as he could swear Potter talked about something similar after their first scene, and the spell had not reacted like this. And Draco wanted to ask what that was, but he knew Potter probably couldn’t answer that. Regardless he had figured it out at least to an extent by now; it must be some confidential vow that bounds Potter from saying a lot of things, including who he was. Not just ‘I’m Harry Potter’, but anything obvious enough that could possibly indicate that. He had figured that out by his birthday, but that didn’t mean Potter wasn’t at fault.

‘It’s okay.’ Potter assured him, ‘Okay. Proceed shall we?’

Draco nodded hesitantly.

Potter asked: ‘Do you really think what happened between us was my plan of revenge?’

‘…No.’ Draco lowered his head in shame.

‘It’s okay.’ Potter held his face with the hand without the spell, seemingly still unable to move the other hand, ‘My fault, not yours, okay?’

Draco closed his eyes and nodded.

‘Then, how did you expect me to react to your revenge?’

Huh. Draco never planned that far. Thinking about it, that’s probably why almost all of his plans to provoke Potter failed starting back in school. And it’s not that he didn’t know how Potter would act; it’s more like… he didn’t want to admit to himself what he wanted was that reaction from Potter —— to be put down to his place.

He must have known what would happen to take his revenge to the dungeon.

‘I don’t know.’ Was what Draco said.

It’s a half-truth, and he could tell Potter knew that. Instead of calling it out or pushing him, Potter just said: ‘Okay. So, what do you think will happen if I don’t respond to your revenge?’

That’s another unsettling question.

Draco could try to lie, but he definitely knew the answer. He would keep escalating until he gets the intended reaction from Potter, just like in fourth year, when the badges didn’t work, he taunted Potter face to face, and when Potter walked away from that, he pulled his wand to Potter’s back. He would hurt Potter, and himself, to the point of no return.

He couldn’t answer, and Potter didn’t push it, just moved on: ‘Though you never asked for a break, I still have to make sure: did anything I do make you uncomfortable?’

The answer was indeed, no.

What Potter did was not against his will. If anything, it’s what he wanted, just not exactly what he thought it would go down. He thought he would provoke Potter, have some hate sex or something, fuck it out of his system, but he was not sure how to pick up the pieces after that. He had wanted to fight, but he didn’t intend to win; he had wanted to be conquered, be claimed. His revenge, or challenge, whatever you call it, it was his cry for help; he wanted Potter to take control, he’s just unable to surrender it too easily, Potter must break him to earn his respect and power of domination over him.

Potter nodded at his answer and sighed: ‘The thing with you and safe word is that though I definitely listen to it, but I can hardly trust you with it. If I only listen to your safe word, you would wind up seriously hurt and hating me after you had your high. So try to use something at the first sigh of uncomfortableness, okay? Wait till the urge to fade a bit; you tend to have a better judgment then.’

So that… that’s the hell of alternation was about.

Draco looked up at Potter, trying to figure out whether his earlier gentleness was just for the purpose of teaching him the lesson; Potter was quick to pick up on it, and stroked his cheek at that, calming him down: ‘When you tried to provoke me, what did you expect of me?’

Normally Draco wouldn’t be able to answer the question, but right now, he felt safe.

‘I… wanted you to take control.’ Draco eventually answered, ‘I don’t know what to do with the mess; I just wanted to show you how hurt I was, wanted to act out my anger, to… to hurt you. But I don’t want to ruin us; I just want to show you how I felt and get past it, so we could… Did I screw up, Potter? Merlin, I really don’t know how to deal with…’

Draco was panicking, and Potter stopped him with a kiss: ‘If anyone screwed up, it’s definitely me.’

He sighed, combed his hand through his messy black hair, trying to find the best words to say: ‘There are three things I will try to clarify —— first, I love you.’ His emerald eyes shone at those words, ‘As an ordinary man, or as a Dom, I am truly, deeply in love with you. I admit I had rushed things when the only name I can refer myself to was James Evans, and though it may be a spur of the moment confession or present, I just couldn’t resist to prepare; part of me must have used it as leverage, hoping if I make it good enough, what’s between us wouldn’t end the moment the truth came out.’

Draco’s heart jumped at those words. Potter wasn’t exactly good at sweet-talking, everything he said sounded unsophisticated, out of fashion, and an idiot believing in so-called true love, but his words had the power of sincere; it was like presenting a dragon with a heart of gold, the definition of irresistible.

‘Second, I would really like you to at least try to change your way of thinking.’ Potter said, holding Draco’s face in his palms, ‘I don’t know if it’s because you don’t think you deserve all the best in the world, or you are afraid you would screw up, or some other insecure issues, but every time something shows the first sign of going south, you try to bolt —— if only you would do that with the safe word. You find the worst possible explanation for it, and you hurt yourself with it. You didn’t want to know the truth anymore, you just want the worst pain to make yourself give up, and then you go self-destructive. I’m pretty sure you would do all kinds of crazy stuff if I didn’t react to you challenging me, and if I hadn’t done it public —— I admit I’m at fault using your feelings about me against you so you would comply to me in public, but you would fight me every step of the way if we were in private, you probably wouldn’t give in even if I beat you half to death. I guess… I guess I’m asking you to think about things objectively so that you can take better care of yourself, and you kind of have to decide what you think about Potter; he can either be ten times the seeker Cedric was or a lesser seeker than someone who hadn’t played a game in ten years.’

He made a bad joke, but Draco couldn’t help but laughed a little and punched Potter’s knee lightly: ‘That’s what you care about?’

He went along with the joke, but he knew Potter was right; it’s what Ruby talked about too. Too much self-hatred, too much self-deception, it wasn’t just others he was hurting, but himself. That’s what Potter cared about. Draco wouldn’t say so, but he knew.

‘Of course not, but you do need to have a way of thinking that doesn’t always lead to self-destruction, and your opinion about Potter can’t be self-contradictory. To your reference, though, he’s not a saint, but you are free to decide he’s human scum.’ Potter said as he looked very, very guilty, ‘That’s the third thing I want to talk with you. I am sincerely sorry for where I’ve gotten us today, yet I can’t even properly apologise and give you an explanation. If you hadn’t come to me, I wouldn’t have bothered you —— Merlin knows how much I’ve missed you. But as long as you feel you are not going to hurt yourself further, I’m going to ask if you’ll give me some time till I can actually explain and apologise.’

That sounds really like some excuse to break up with Draco. Draco’s hands clenched into fists, he looked up at Potter, and Potter quickly added: ‘Sorry. I wasn’t clear —— after… after things go back to normal… well, not exactly normal, but it used to be, or something, I would like to ask you to give me a chance to start over, to explain, apologise, and to date you properly ——you don’t have to decide now! And I fully understand if you decide, then I wasn’t the right one for you.’

He always touches Draco’s heart in the weirdest way possible.

‘Of course, you can forever hold my wrongdoing against me; I’ll compensate, or just spoil you, any way you want and any way possible.’ Potter said, retreating into his awkward self with a blush, ‘That is if you’ll allow me, of course.’

The way he said it was like he didn’t know what being loved or spoiled by Harry Potter meant, didn’t know what he was offering was so precious that no gem could compare, sweet like all the honey in the world condensed, and everything, everything Draco had ever wanted.

He’s just the right amount of Gryffindor, brave, honest and sincere, but also the right amount of Slytherin, as part of him —— probably unconscious, but nonetheless part of him knows that’s the exact leverage Draco need to feel comfortable with him, that he was forever at fault, forever at a disadvantage, forever in Draco’s debt.

And now, would be the perfect chance of his revenge.

‘So you are not breaking up with me.’ Draco asked.

‘No!’ Potter denied immediately, panicking a little, didn’t even catch on to Draco playing him, just stressed, ‘Positive thinking, remember?’

‘I’ll think about it.’ Just to torture Potter, Draco so answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t want to explain too much. 
> 
> I don’t think Harry was abusive, I think it’s just how a Dom kind of have to do when dealing with a bratty sub with this kind of psychological problems. Of course, how he reacted wasn’t perfect.
> 
> Enjoy it if you can. Love you regardless. 
> 
> Thanks to Mika, and all of you who tried to comfort me. I’ll admit I’m a bit fragile, but all comments, positive or negative, are appreciated. ;) I normally try to reply to all of them, but I might skipped over a few I don’t know how to answer. Again, love you all regardless.


	24. Crisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco got kidnapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the logic is coherent.   
> The final plot.

Great. That’s just his luck.

Draco tried to break the magical restraints one more time; the blue spark between his fingers struggled on the magical bond but died eventually; he let out a frustrated groan and slumped his head against the tall back chair.

Bondage usually felt so much hotter when it’s Potter who used it on him.

And yes. Draco was kidnapped.

He was definitely in some dungeon, not the fun kind, bound tight to a chair, also not the fun kind, and his arse was killing him. He would even give his wand back if the kidnapper just let him cast a few cushioning charms.

Ok. He wouldn’t. But that spoke to how much he would like them right now. He really shouldn’t skip addressing his abused arse so that he could keep Potter’s mark on him longer. He’s pretty sure Potter wouldn’t force him to sit on his sore arse for such a long time.

So. Back to the obvious problem: Draco was kidnapped, now locked in a dark dungeon somewhere unknown.

Problem number one: No one knew Draco was kidnapped.

He remembered waking up to London's typical rainy day, sleeping in a bit because he’s still feeling it from his encounter with Potter. Almost late for work because of it, he grabbed a wind coat and stepped into his floo… then he felt the familiar unpleasant feeling of the pull of a forced transportation spell. He tried to prepare and defend himself upon landing, but he fell directly into an installed stunning spell on the ground.

The good news was, Draco was kidnapped on his way to work, so if he were lucky, his clever assistant should figure out something was off before noon. Unless she thought he drowned himself in the bottles over his break up with Potter. Or thought he slept in after splendid sex with Potter.

He’s fucked, wasn’t he?

He really wishes right now that he had settled things with Potter earlier, went back to his routine of reporting every meal to Potter, so at least Potter would know Draco was missing when he saw Draco missed breakfast and came to bring Draco his homemade brunch.

Seriously he missed Potter’s cooking.

Problem number two: He couldn’t break the restraints without his wand.

Whoever cast it was a decent wizard; breaking free wouldn’t be a problem with his wand, but now it’s impossible. Draco can get the wizard's general power level from the strength of the restraints —— slightly less than himself, not to brag.

The bigger problem with these restraints was, Draco recognised the spell.

Potter had used it during one of their heated sex, posing as Auror Potter, who captured jewel thief Draco —— don’t judge —— called him his naughty little ferret, let Draco seduce him into immoral sex —— was it inappropriate to be hard right now? —— and accidentally let Draco escape. Hence the spell Draco was using to break the restraints.

Before the scene, Potter taught him the blue spark saw spell used to break the restraints. Breaking Potter’s restraints was easy; Draco had said with contempt that Aurors weren’t such big deals; after all, Potter had smiled resignedly and warned him: ‘That incarceration spell is a strengthened version of _Incarcerous_ , aiming to use minimum magic to form the strongest restraint. When cast by a regular Auror, even Grindelwald couldn’t break free immediately. The only reason you broke it so easily was because I didn’t use much magic with it.’

To be able to cast the spell so well, whoever kidnapped Draco must be an Auror.

Indeed there were quite a few Aurors who weren’t exactly team Draco, but they were mostly people with a strong sense of morality and hero complex; there’s no reason to kidnap Draco out of the blue —— unless they bought the crap Witch Weekly sold and was strongly against Potter proposing Draco. It’s much more likely Draco got snatched by the mole who tracked Potter and attacked the burrow.

This was bad, bad news.

The door of the dungeon opened, Draco quickly pretended to be unconscious, his nerve tensing as the footsteps of three kidnappers approached, and the candles on the wall lit up.

‘I know you are awake.’ A kidnapper said, his voice familiar.

Draco remained still, in case it was just a bluff, but a second kidnapper added: ‘The effect of the stunning spell should be over by now. Shall I test it with a Crucio?’

Draco cursed internally, but opened his eyes.

The kidnapper of higher status, standing right before him, was the only one of the three not covering his face. It was the familiar face of Fourgecount, but that’s not the least helpful, because now that the candles were lit, Draco could see further into the darkness, and right behind the kidnapper, on a similar chair Draco was on, was an unconscious but alive Fourgecount.

It’s obvious that at some point, Forgecount was captured and kept prisoner so the imposter could use him to make polyjuice —— some advanced version of it, undetectable to the current detection spell, using the original’s blood instead of hair, as Draco could tell from Forgecount’s pale face that his unconsciousness was probably the result of extensive blood loss.

‘I have only one question for you: where is Harry Potter.’ The fake Forgecount asked.

Exactly what Draco was afraid of.

Draco didn’t answer at first, just looked at the fake Forgecount —— something about him made Draco feel unsettled.

‘Why do you think I’ll tell you?’ Draco asked instead.

The fake Forgecount didn’t answer immediately, just repeated: ‘Where is Harry Potter.’

Draco didn’t say anything, just looked back coldly with those silver eyes, and the first Crucio hit.

——

‘Where is Potter.’

When the first round of torture stopped, Draco’s shirt was completely soaked from sweating.

He panted, gasping for air, blinking his sweat away from his eyelashes, fighting for his eyes to focus.

Fuck. He had forgotten how unpleasant pain can be, and how much a Crucio hurt.

The good news was, they hadn’t thought of searching him, and the hair ring heirloom he was wearing had a few protective charms installed that should prevent him from dying or actually going insane. The bad news was he’s not passing out any time soon because of it, so the torture was unlikely to stop.

‘What, you are afraid to say anything else?’ Draco forced out the words sarcastically; his heart was pounding hard; he’s not even sure what he was talking about, just thinking while he was talking, buying himself time somehow, ‘Why Forgecount? His partner Rosier would be the much better choice; he’s a pureblood, has a much better connection with his family. You chose to impose Forgecount because he was divorced, has no children, and didn’t talk much, right? Makes sense. He’s one of the most isolated people I’ve ever seen. It would be difficult to figure out he was imposed.’

The fake Forgecount didn’t say anything, but the way he pursed his lips… Draco pushed further: ‘But if you were afraid to blow your cover earlier, now I definitely know you are not Forgecount, why so careful with words?’

The fake Forgecount raised his wand agitated: ‘No more talking! Where is _Potter_?’

He was not the torturer; one of his goons was; in fact, he seemed startled when the second kidnapper started to torture Draco, but went along nonetheless.

‘I know you didn’t I.’ Draco stared at the kidnapper, ‘You chose Forgecount specifically because he wouldn’t talk to me, and you wouldn’t talk right now because you don’t want me to know who you are. That means… I know you really well, didn’t I.’

Fuck. The Crucios must have gotten to his brain somehow because figuring out who the kidnapper was would definitely get him killed, though they would probably kill Draco anyway.

The kidnapper’s hand twitched at Draco’s words.

And that was the last sign, Draco sighed and let the name roll off his tongue: ‘It’s been so long —— Good to see you alive, Vincent Crabbe.’

The kidnapper froze.

Slowly, he looked up at Draco; it must be what, an hour since the torture started? Because the effect of the polyjuice was fading, revealing the horrifying burning scars underneath, and the familiar face of his friends for years.

‘It’s really you.’ Draco said.

‘I’m surprised.’ Crabbe said, his voice coarse as the result of voice cord burned by hot fume inhalation years ago, ‘Gregory and I were no more than lapdogs to you; I didn’t think you would be able to recognise me so soon.’

Draco laughed: ‘If so, you wouldn’t be so afraid to talk.’

Was this what Potter had to deal with? Draco tried to sit upright and thought inappropriately. He probably was the same, acting and talking in ways that contradicted his true thoughts and feelings.

For a moment, he really missed Potter.

To be honest, it’s the only thing he had been thinking about, really, the only thing that helped him through the pain. He tried to remember details about Potter, how his eyelashes draped over his emerald eyes when he was shy, the shade of his blush, the way he always smiled when he was truly happy, with that little dimple by his lips.

He really hopes he could see Potter again.

They had left their relationship where there were words unsaid and deeds undone. Draco thought about Potter, not knowing whether he had chosen to abandon him; it hurt his heart more than the Crucio.

——

Draco vomited from his empty stomach, his own gastric acid burned at his oesophagus.

Maybe it’s a good thing he skipped breakfast.

Spitting out the bad taste, Draco could barely hang himself by the arm of the chair by now, but he smiled: ‘You know, Millicent gave Goyle a son. He named him Vincent.’

‘I don’t care!’ Crabbe shouted, ‘Where, is, Potter!’

‘What are you going to do if I tell you, huh?’ Draco asked, ‘Duel Potter? Kill him? For what, revenge for Tom psycho Riddle?’

‘It’s… it’s not your concern!’ Crabbe shouted.

‘Whatever it is, I can’t let you do it, Vince, I lead you down the wrong road once; I’ll never ever do that again.’ Draco spoke as soft as he could, and frankly, his voice was weak, ‘I can’t let you do anything wrong anymore. You are… you are my friend.’

A Crucio shot from Crabbe’s wand hit Draco’s chest; it didn’t really hurt that bad, so Draco knew Crabbe didn’t really have the heart to hurt him.

He wanted to say something, but something changed; the place right above his heart burned insanely painful, he screamed out, reaching to touch it despite the tight restraints.

The second kidnapper wanted to cast more Crucios, but Crabbe stopped him; the kidnapper said almost frantically: ‘They already figured out he was missing, we need to know where Potter is fast.’

So, some good news, after all. Draco thought. Good job Elise.

‘I know.’ Crabbe said, but he wouldn’t give in.

The third kidnapper mediated: ‘Listen to the leader. Give Malfoy a break. We are breaking him. You used too many Crucios too fast; he’s having fantom pain. We can’t have him going crazy before we get the answer. Just give him a break.’

Although the other two kidnappers were covering their face, Draco could tell the second kidnapper was looking at Crabbe angrily, but he eventually gave in.

The three of them left the room, but the pain was still there. Somehow the pain was different, there’s some strange sweetness coming from the spot in pain, and it was so hot that it had a clear shape…

It was burning in a fucking heart shape?

Then Draco remembered.

He was wearing the coat he wore the first time he stayed at the dungeon.

He opened his palm, whispered a spell, and what was in the concealed pocket of his wind coat was firmly in his hand.

The crystal heart Potter gave him, was shining gently in the candlelight.

Draco held it for a second, leaned down and gave it a shaky kiss, then dropped it on the ground and stomped on it.

——

‘Finally.’

Draco looked up startled, as the door suddenly burst open, and the second kidnapper was standing by the door; Draco’s heart jolted as he saw he had Crabbe’s immobile body by the black hood, and Draco could tell he was smiling behind the mask.

‘What?’ He asked, trying to be as calm as possible, stepping on the shards to cover it.

‘You really aren’t so smart, or pretty.’ The second kidnapper said, walking up to Draco, dragging Crabbe’s heavy body along like it was nothing, dropped it by Draco’s feet, walked behind Draco, the tip of his wand playing with Draco’s hair, ‘I really don’t know what he saw in you. A man like him, powerful, beautiful… you? You can’t even serve him right, bothered him with all the trivial defaults of yours.’

The way he suddenly switched from an angry imbecile who could barely control himself to this composed but definitely psychotic person, sent the alarms of Draco’s going off like crazy.

‘Which is it?’ Draco forced out as the wand settled on his throat, ‘You can either be the so-called neo-death eater devoted to the dead psycho, or in Potter’s fan club. You can’t be both.’

‘Umm… let me see.’ The kidnapper smiled, ‘There are a few mistakes in your words; where do I start? Well first —— our Lord isn’t dead, and I’m going to bring him back.’

Just the possibility chilled Draco to the bone.

He could almost see that pale, lifeless face, the crazy, empty eyes, that voice that sounded like a snake slithered over the ground, and that presence, cold and wet against his mental wall.

‘Why the fuck would you do that.’ He bit out, ‘How the fuck can you possibly do that.’

The kidnapper laughed: ‘You see, people all think there were only six Horcruxes, all destroyed by the mighty saviour. No one knew there was a seventh Horcrux —— the Saviour himself.’

‘No.’ Draco responded almost instinctively, ‘Potter’s not…’

‘No?’ The kidnapper smiled, ‘Haven’t you wondered why he was so different inside and outside of the dungeon? Why he could be so charming as the Dom, but so boring as a man?’

Draco could see the answer coming; he felt disgusted and terrified as he heard the kidnapper say: ‘Because it’s not him at all. It was the soul of our Lord seeping through.’

That can’t be… calm down, Draco Malfoy. He told himself.

He was not the terrified teenager anymore, and the more pressure he was under, the clearer his head was.

Draco looked up and into the kidnapper’s eyes as the kidnapper said: ‘Isn’t that why he would suddenly took an interest in you? You had always been one of his favourites. His power is growing back, and breaking the poor barrier of Harry. Isn’t that why you served him, Malfoy, because he had always been your true master?’

Draco studied those blue eyes, and said slowly: ‘You are crazy, Rosier.’

There’s one person the fake Forgecount had little chance of fooling no matter how little words Crabbe said, and someone had to cast this Auror restraining spell; Crabbe couldn’t just magically learn the spell by posing as Forgecount. There had to be another mole inside the department.

‘Good eye.’ Rosier laughed as he pulled down his mask, ‘Ten points to Draco Malfoy?’

‘You tricked Vincent.’ Draco said.

He looked down and saw Crabbe looking at him, his big body apparently limb and immobile; the best thing he could do was blink; those eyes, one slightly deformed by the fire, had looks of despair in them.

‘Yeah.’ Rosier sighed, ‘He really thought he was the leader of the group. Poor man, really, he thought he was going to be Lord’s right-hand man after we bring him back, and Lord will heal his scars, bring his mother back from death and free his father from Azkaban. He actually cared about you, you know? He was going to credit you for bringing down Harry so that you would be a high ranking death eater again.’

Draco closed his eyes. Crabbe lost everything. If he were ever found alive by the wizarding world, he would be confined in Azkaban for the rest of his life or even get kissed, and even if he managed to escape to muggle society, he could hardly have a life with scars like that. His life was at a dead-end when his mother died three years ago —— she must have kept him hidden and taken care of him all those years, didn’t have the heart to lock her wounded son in Azkaban, and trusted him to her best friend, Mrs. Rosier, after her death.

‘You are going to kill him.’ Draco said.

The lights in Crabbe’s eyes flickered at his words; Draco could tell that despite everything, despite the desperation that Crabbe was calling a life didn’t have much to offer, he didn’t want to die.

‘And you.’ Rosier said, charming smile on his beautiful young face, ‘I can’t have him liking you better. He really broke my heart when he gave you his collar.’

Cold run down Draco’s spine.

It took his tortured mind a few moments to realise Rosier never really cared about where Potter was. Grimmauld Place was Potter’s official residence, where he stays on occasions, but it’s also a headquarter for the Aurors, almost like a dormitory for Aurors; it would be suicidal to hit there. And by what Rosier had said, he knew Potter from the dungeon; he knew where Potter was, and knew attacking a giant room of requirement of Potter’s command would be impossible.

It was his plan all along to use Draco to lure Potter here.

‘You… you tracked the crystal heart.’ Draco said.

‘Ding ding ding! Bingo!’ Rosier laughed, ‘I used the chance of searching your apartment to get some of that tracking powder on the heart. The moment its position moved, I activated a transport spell I put on it. I was counting on you using it.’

Draco’s heart sank to the bottom at that: ‘They didn’t know I was missing.’

‘No.’ Rosier smiled; the smile was almost impossibly dark on his handsome face, ‘Harry’s going to rush here, thinking that you need him, and walk right into the trap.’

‘He might not.’ Draco said.

‘Why not? This was the little country house Mrs. Keepin gave you as an apology for what her son did —— thankfully, Bard still had the key. It’s registered to you.’ Rosier said, the tip of his wand touched Draco’s throat, and the pain of crucio was present again; Draco screamed, struggled to catch his breath when the pain stopped, ‘And even if they found out about this, no one else would trust an ex-death eater kidnapped by neo-death eaters, he’ll come, even if it means to ditch all his protective details, he’ll still come because he’s stupid that way. Always had to be the saviour. You hated that about him too, didn’t you? I guess we have a little in common after all.’

No, Draco didn’t. And there’s nothing they had in common: ‘You are wrong.’

‘About what?’ Rosier said uncaringly, ‘Enlighten me.’

Everything. The other side —— darker side of Potter, was all Potter himself. As a wounded child, a troubled teenager, and a lonely man, Potter accumulated his problems, but there’s still a long way to a dark lord. Rosier didn’t understand, cooked up this theory that somehow Dom Potter was the result of Potter being a Horcrux, was because he had never seen the real Voldemort. The Dom Potter was every bit the usual Potter he always was, if not more caring, more gentle.

‘Where do I start —— ’ Draco retorted, ‘Well first, you are not going to win.’

‘Normally I won’t.’ Rosier said, ‘But you, you helped a lot.’

Draco’s eyes looked up at that, and Rosier smiled: ‘Where did it start, I don’t know, but it’s an inside joke of the Aurors, that Harry was really bad at keeping secrets. Rumour has it he once had a few doubles, but he outed himself as the real Harry when captured. After that, Granger had spells to prevent him from doing that, and it went from there. When he posted your bail, I asked Wizengarmout in Forgecount’s name to install a stricter spell. I knew he would try to tell you who he really is, but every time he provoked the spell, he gets punished, not enough to erase his being like an unbreakable vow would, but enough to unstablise his soul, in preparation for our Lord’s soul to take possession of his body.’

‘He… why would he…’ agree to such a spell?

‘Wizengarmout had problems with him for a long time now. They wanted him to be under their control, but he refused to be an Auror under their command, and him consorting with an ex-death eater like you? That’s the perfect excuse.’ Rosier said, his face contempt, ‘Frankly, it wasn’t hard to trick him into accepting it without Granger doing the thinking for him, and your life on the line.’

‘You can’t overpower Potter.’

‘I don’t need to.’ Rosier said, green light-condensing at the tip of his wand, ‘No matter how strong Harry is, he can’t be faster with my wand at your throat. I just have to persuade him into stepping into that magic circle over there.’

Draco looked over and saw an evil-looking purple magic circle on the ground; it’s drawing complicated and unfamiliar.

‘Think about it.’ Rosier chanted joyfully, ‘How perfect it was going to be. The beautiful face, perfect body, and the soul of our rational, ruthless Lord.’

Ok. It’s official. Of all the people in love with their version of Potter, Rosier had the most twisted version.

Crabbe suddenly lunged at Rosier, presumably the time limit of his stunning spell passed; Rosier cast a lightning spell and immobilised him again easily, and narrowed his eyes: ‘You, I don’t need you anymore.’

‘Alex! Why don’t you take a step back and think about it.’ Draco tried.

‘Aaron.’ Rosier stopped but corrected irritatedly.

Fuck.

‘…Aaron.’ Draco said, ‘You don’t need to kill anyone. You want to talk to Potter, that’s fine. But Vincent, he’s not going to be a threat to you regardless. Let him live —— let him go.’

‘If I don’t?’

‘I can’t save myself, but I can certainly kill myself.’ Draco said as a faint red light condensed at his palm —— _Suicifini_ , the spell of suicide, ‘You can’t stop me. And when Potter comes, sees me dead, you’ll have no leverage.’

‘He’s an imbecile who tried to kill you before. You really care?’ Rosier raised an eyebrow.

‘I do.’ Draco said, Crabbe was shaking at his feet, tears streamed down and made a mess on his face, ‘Let him go. You don’t need the weight of another life on your back.’

Rosier looked at Draco, evaluating: ‘You are bluffing.’

‘Try me.’ Draco said, smiling baring his teeth.

‘How will I know you won’t kill yourself anyway?’

‘You won’t.’ Draco said, then he shrugged, ‘But maybe I would like to see Potter one last time before I die.’

Rosier studied Draco’s face, then he gave up, kicked Crabbe and said: ‘Sod off. One wrong move, and I’ll kill Malfoy.’

Crabbe could barely get up to his feet, but he wouldn’t leave, just looked at Draco, and Draco nodded: ‘Go. You know I’m smarter than you, and you have always listened to me, right? Go. I can take care of myself —— I’m sorry, for a lot of things —— just go.’

And Crabbe did, half walked half crawled out of the door.

Draco let out a long breath; the light in his hand, however, didn’t dissipate.

He didn’t want to be the liability to Potter, and this was his last resort. But then again, he really did want to see Potter again, and there were so many things in his life he hadn’t done yet, so many things he wasn’t ready to let go.

However, because of his brief hesitation, because of the earlier spark saw spell and the torture exhausting him, he used up the last of his magic; the spell flickered and died. Just that moment, there was a loud crack in the air, from the blur of colour, emerged the figure that was Harry Potter, he had his wand in hand, and a worried frown on his face.

It was the face Draco was dying to see, but he immediately screamed at the top of his lungs: ‘Run —— ’


	25. Settle

Potter reacted fast, a protective spell shot out to Draco and himself, but Rosier already had his wand against Draco’s throat, one push of the tip of his wand, digging into Draco’s artery, and Potter’s protective shield fell back.

‘Aaron.’ Potter said placidly, ‘Let’s talk about this.’

‘You deaf Potter?! I told you to…’ Draco’s complaint was cut short by Rosier tightening his chokehold on Draco.

‘Toss over your wand.’ Rosier demanded.

Draco struggled, but one look from Potter and Draco stopped instinctively. Potter complied, tossing over his wand; Rosier accioed it, and snapped it into halves immediately.

‘Why the fuck did you listen to him?’ Draco shouted as Rosier loosened his hold, his eyes burning as he stared at Potter, ‘He lured you here to kill you. Fuck you Potter, I told you to go.’

‘You know I can’t.’ Potter said; the bastard didn’t dare look at Draco’s eyes. ‘It’s my fault. I should have protected you better. I’m not leaving.’

‘You are damn right it’s your fault! You know what you should do?’ Draco shouted, ‘ _You should fucking get better exes!_ Ginevra Weasley is where I draw the line. This lunatic? Seriously Potter, what did you see in him?’

‘Gentlemen.’

‘He’s pureblood, blond, get it?’ Draco managed to irritate the perfectly composed Potter even under a hostage situation, Potter was even blushing, ‘I had a type. I couldn’t possibly know Draco sodding Malfoy would have been a better date, could I.’

‘Well, congratulations! You landed us here!’

‘Gentlemen!’ Rosier yelled, ‘In case you’ve all forgotten, I’m right here, and I can kill you in a split second, Malfoy.’

‘Well fuck you too, not literally, though.’ Draco retorted.

Draco knew their conversation was as inappropriate as it could be, but he couldn’t help it. The moment he saw Potter’s face, it’s like a dam inside him collapsed, he was angry, afraid, happy and sad and everything else all at the same time, he just wanted to shout at Potter to somehow release something, wanted to say whatever ridiculous thing that was on his mind.

Rosier almost failed to proceed, but quickly schooled himself and said to Potter: ‘Get into the circle —— Your hands. I almost forgot. I know how good you are at wandless magic. They must go first.’

‘Only if you make an unbreakable vow to me to let him go and never harm him in any way.’ Potter said.

‘Are you insane? You are not seriously considering…’

But they ignored Draco. Rosier raised his hand, and a golden chain reached over from Potter’s hand to his wrist, Rosier studied the vow before letting it lock into place.

‘You really like him.’ Rosier said, his tone dark, ‘You not only prevented me from hurting him. You made me protect him with my life.’

Potter didn’t say anything.

‘Now your end of the bargain.’ Rosier bit out.

‘No Potter, don’t you dare —— ’ Draco screamed.

Potter just closed his eyes, and a few seconds later, Draco saw blood seeping through his snow-white shirt sleeves, dripping from both of his hands —— Potter had severed the flow of magic to both of his hands.

Draco couldn’t make a sound anymore, his eyes blurred by tears, and he hated himself for that.

‘Into the circle.’ Rosier demanded, and Potter did, leaving a trail of blood as he walked into the circle.

The circle was activated the second Potter was in there; glowing purple chains reached out and pulled Potter till he knelt on the ground. The restraints on Draco were broken the second Potter was locked into place, Draco scrambled over, trying to reach for Potter, but the circle had an invisible barrier preventing any intrusion; all Draco could do was pound at the invisible wall of magic.

‘Harry Potter, you are the stupidest fucking person alive!’ Draco didn’t know if he was yelling or crying, ‘Why would you do that? You’ll die, you’ll fucking die!’

‘It appears I can’t ever find the right chance to say this, but —— I love you.’ Potter said.

How he could be so calm was beyond Draco. Or maybe he wasn’t really very calm, because Draco really couldn’t see Potter clearly with all those tears in his eyes. He tried to wipe them away, but there’s just too many of them falling too fast.

‘I’m really sorry for everything I caused you.’ Potter said, and paused, then he said: ‘I really wanted to compensate you for the rest of my life, till you forgive me. Sorry that I don’t have the chance anymore.’

‘I already forgave you.’ Draco tried every wandless breaking spell he knew.

‘You don’t have to say that just because I’m dying.’

‘I’m not. But that doesn’t mean you don’t owe me. You owe me everything for the rest of my life!’ Draco yelled, ‘I’ll never forgive you if you die on me.’

‘If that means you’ll remember me, I think I’ll take it.’

‘ _Harry Potter!_ ’

The magical circle glowed even brighter, and Potter squeezed out a smile: ‘You might want to consider your last words to me.’

‘Fuck you, Potter, seriously fuck you!’ Draco cried, ‘I hate you! Merlin, I’ll hate you forever!’

‘Might I suggest you start calling me Harry?’

‘No you may not! You are not allowed to do anything, anything, you get me?’ Draco almost clawed at the invisible magical wall, ‘Because you are stupid! Even your fucking name is stupid; what kind of wizard name their kid Harry?! It’s a stupid name for you. And I hate your stupid glasses. Your stupid hair. They… they cover your eyes.’

‘Okay.’

‘I… Merlin, I —— ’ Draco fell to the ground, everything else was becoming numb, it wasn’t the same as when Potter hated him, when he didn’t see Potter for years, he couldn’t even start to imagine what the world would feel like without Potter, especially now he knew what he could have had, ‘Please don’t die, I love you, please please Harry, I can’t… I can’t…’

‘Draco.’

‘At least… at least I should get to touch you one more time, hug you one more time, kiss you one more time… Merlin, what did I do to deserve this.’

‘Um, Draco?’

‘What!’ Draco looked up; he couldn’t even imagine what a mess he was right now; he could barely make out Potter’s weird expression.

‘May I ask how this circle is supposed to kill me?’

‘Rosier said it’s some kind of Horcrux activation circle or something…’

‘Ah.’ Potter said, ‘In that case.’

‘Wha…’

Potter closed his eyes and shook his shoulders once, and just like that, the purple chain was shocked into little pieces, the magical wall shattered, and a surprised Draco fell forward right into his embrace.

Potter could barely move his arms, just tried his best to use his right hand to catch Draco, lift his left hand and a strong wall of protective magic built up. Rosier cast a few spells, made ripples on the shield, but Potter managed to hold the shield.

Without immediate threat, Draco checked Potter’s wounds first, but he didn’t know how to heal the severed flow of magic, so he had to leave it at that, then he asked the most pressing question: ‘Please tell me you are not a Horcrux, that Voldemort hadn’t been watching when we were at it.’

‘Well, I kind of was.’ Potter said, ‘But I died and got rid of it ten years ago… long story. Anyway, no, he’s permanently dead.’

Then Draco slapped him: ‘Don’t you ever scare me like that again!’

Potter slowly turned his head back; he had an innocent expression on his face; with his puppy eyes and red cheek, he looked ridiculous and ridiculously adorable, and Draco couldn’t resist but kissed him fiercely.

After the kiss, Draco smiled through his tears and stroked Potter’s cheek: ‘Don’t you ever scare me again.’

Rosier, on the other hand, was full-blown crazy by this point; he threw another curse, his eyes bloodshot and frantic: ‘You two are way too comfortable as hostages —— he cut the magic flow to both his hands, he’s forcing his magic out. If his magic was a river normally, right now? It’s just tap water. The more he uses his magic, the more he bleeds. How long do you think he has till he bleeds out, Malfoy?’

‘Long enough.’ Potter cut Rosier short.

But Draco could see he was getting pale; his left hand was bleeding a lot faster than his right. Potter tried an _Expelliarmus_ with his right hand, but all Aurors had previous anti-spells to that; even Potter couldn’t disarm him without his wand and his magic flow restricted.

Draco felt useless, but he could barely stay conscious after the torture, he’s seeing a lot of weird shapes and colours, and his magic was exhausted; he could barely cast a lumos.

If only they have…

Then Draco saw it. A weird curve on Rosier’s cloak, and something there —— a golden arrow, pointing at the familiar handle of Draco’s wand.

‘My wand.’ Draco whispered, ‘He has my wand on him.’

He barely had much magic left, but the owner of the wand always has a stronger bond to their wand after years of living and fighting together, not to mention the level Draco cherished his wand.

It’s life or death at this one try.

Draco directed whatever magic he had to his hand: ‘Accio —— Draco Malfoy’s wand.’

The wand came, but it went directly to Harry bloody Potter for whatever reason, Potter managed to catch it, and with one smooth sway, Rosier was disarmed. At his moment of surprise, an incarceration spell shot from the now very conscious Forgecount bonded him, and he fell to the ground, immobile at last.

‘I told you, Rosier, I told you.’ Said the old Auror weakly. The old bastard must have been pretending for a while now, waiting for the right moment to use his last bit of magic.

And the dungeon was finally calm, only the sound of panting from all parties could be heard; Potter collapsed into Draco’s laps the next moment; Draco barely managed to catch him, had to lean on the wall to support himself. Still, he tried his best to cast two tourniquet spells on Potter, and combed his fingers through Potter’s hair.

Potter smiled tiredly but kept his emerald eyes on Draco, like he didn’t want to miss a second.

Rosier struggled to look up, fixed his eyes on Potter, and spoke coldly: ‘Is there anything you would like to say to me?’

Potter tore his eyes from Draco, looked at Rosier for a moment, then sighed: ‘No. You don’t like me outside of the dungeon; that’s fine; we go our separate ways. I don’t know the details, but since I’m lying on a Horcrux activation circle, I’m guessing you think I’m boring as Harry Potter because my sadistic side was actually Voldemort. I had my doubts about it for quite some time myself, but I can say with certainty now that it is not the case. I really hope you didn’t hurt all these people, but I don’t know what else to say to you. I’m just this normal, boring person, with the name Harry Potter, you are free to like me or hate me, but I won’t just become who you want me to be.’

Rosier fell silent.

Draco somehow got it. This must be why Ruby was worried Potter had commitment issues. Rosier was different; he was from work; they probably started off knowing Potter was Potter, but just as hookups, so Rosier was fascinated at first, by the powerful and perfectly in control Potter, but when they tried it outside of the setting of a dungeon, Rosier didn’t like Potter as his awkward self. But then, it was Rosier who couldn’t deal with breaking up with the famous Harry Potter.

Draco felt murderous thinking the cute and awkward Potter, being so shy and unconfident, might partly be the result of hurt by Rosier, but couldn’t help but laughed at that too.

Potter looked back at Draco at that, and Draco explained: ‘I know that sometimes your enemy knows you the best, but this is getting ridiculous. People are so blind when they see you. They have this wild imagination and insane expectations of you.’

Potter arched a brow: ‘You have weird opinions about me too.’

Draco blushed, but he admitted: ‘When I talk, yes. Not when I think. When I’m with you, I barely remember my own name, let alone yours. You are… you are just you.’

Potter didn’t say anything at first; then he answered: ‘For what it’s worth, I forget who we are too whenever I was with you.’

This might be the worst time and place, but it’s in this Merlin knows where bloody dungeon, with Potter’s crazy ex and a hardcore old Auror that hated Draco, his entire body aching from the Crucios and Potter lying on his lap, Draco felt ridiculously close to the concept of the so-called true love Slytherins don’t believe in.

It’s the feeling you have when a person makes you forget everything ugly or painful or sad in life, you forget your own name, couldn’t relate his name to his person, because all that didn’t matter, all that stripped of its meaning, as what you love were not the symbols attached to the person, but the unspeakable essence of his.

For both him and Potter, their names were the heaviest burden they bore —— as the Malfoy heir, or the Saviour.

They were probably the last person each other expected to find love from, but somehow, they were the only ones who see each other as their true selves.

After a few seconds of rest, Draco used the last bit of his magic to free Forgecount, threw a few healing spells his way, and since there’s no way they can apparate out of here with only one working wand, he summoned Potter’s broken wand in the hope of repairing it, but no luck.

Potter sighed at that: ‘I guess repairing it once was already pushing my luck.’

Draco knew Potter’s wand was the first and most consistent thing that companied him, reminded him he could be a strong wizard of his own and no longer the helpless child, he was really attached to it, but he only knows how to comfort people his way: ‘Just get a new one. I’ll pay for it.’

‘…Nah.’ Potter smiled and looked at Draco’s wand, ‘Maybe I should take yours, and you get a new wand. I really like it, it was by my side at the worst time and the hardest battle.’

‘In your dreams Potter!’

‘Why not?’

He sounded too serious, and Draco asked: ‘Why are you so attached to it?’

‘Maybe it’s the wand used by my crush.’

‘It’s the wand used by my crush too.’

‘He used it longer.’ Potter’s tone teasing, ‘You don’t know how many times I dreamed about his long pale fingers on the ten-inch long wood, the way he stroked it when he does care for the wand…’

‘Okay! Shut up!’ Draco blushed, ‘Merlin, you are dirty. And you really still have enough blood to get erect, Potter?’

And he didn’t want to think about the similar fantasy of his own, how sometimes, involuntarily, he would look at his wand and think about it was hold and cared for by Potter.

Potter chucked and looked at Draco, his emerald gaze suddenly intense: ‘I never gave it much thinking back then, but… it is your wand, it sees you as it’s only master, there’s no way I could use it so easily if you hadn’t wanted it to protect me, to fight for me, and it had to be some strong wish.’

Draco looked away: ‘I didn’t even know how I felt back then.’

‘I know.’ Potter said, ‘When I used it today… I remembered how it used to feel, and how it felt today. I may get a new wand, but I think I’ll always feel best when I was using it. I never had that feeling before —— it was warm before, and it is warm today, but it’s different.. I guess that’s what it feels like then, being loved.’

‘Keep talking; I’ll just _Obliviate_ myself.’ Forgecount said, ‘You two do realise there are still two more living breathing human in the room, right?’

No. They totally forgot.

‘Sorry.’ Draco mumbled.

They fell silent for a while.

‘Um, does anyone know we are kidnapped?’ Draco asked.

‘Probably no.’ Potter said.

‘…So what do we do?’

‘We kind of… wait for Hermione?’

‘…It must be really tiring to be Hermione, looking out for you and Ronald Weasley, the two biggest idiots in the world, all the time.’

They both laughed, and at some point, they both passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Mika.


	26. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few things after they were saved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Mika.

Draco woke up to a buzzing chaos as something in his hand was pulled away.

He could tell they had finally got saved, not by the Aurors, though, probably some rogue action carried out by Dumbledore’s army or something, as he managed to make out from his shaking vision that the neo-death eaters had been captured and were being guarded by Lovegood and Longbottom. More than a few Weasleys were running around. Forgecount was already healed, presumably after a few vials of hematinic potions, and was sitting by Draco’s side on another stretcher.

Draco tried to get up and search for Potter, but Forgecount held him down: ‘Easy kid. You seem unharmed, but I know how many Crucios you withstood. I would never have picked you for a tough one —— one of the toughest I’ve ever met, actually. Tip of the hat to you, son.’

For him to say that, he must be really impressed.

Right now, as the adrenaline faded, Draco was feeling pain in every cell, and it’s hard to stand as it was; he couldn’t even speak. Forgecount picked up on Draco’s pain and cast a mild healing spell.

‘I had different motivations.’ Draco forced out the words, ‘Potter?’

‘Not sure.’ Forgecount shrugged, ‘Just came to myself —— about Potter, he didn’t even hesitate to give up his hands or his life, you are lucky to have him.’

‘That I am.’ Draco said, the world is still a mess and blur to him, ‘But I really need to know how he is.’

Luckily Granger noticed he was awake, and quickly walked over, cast another testing spell on Draco while reassuring him: ‘Harry’s fine. Ron and George had just rushed him to St. Mangos for an emergency operation on his hands —— we are sending you there shortly too, as soon as your vitals stable enough for transportation.’

And it’s not just the Gryffindors that were really close to Potter and willing to risk their lives for him; there’s… Goyle?

Crabbe was incarcerated to a stretcher, he lost a leg somehow, his face pale from blood loss, and Goyle was holding his hand through the grid; on his face was a sad but solemn expression: ‘I’ll visit you. I promise.’

Crabbe closed his eyes and smiled a weak smile.

‘He splinched himself apparating.’ Hermione explained as Draco looked to her, ‘They already found his leg and sent it to St. Mangos, they will be able to fix him once he gets there —— he managed to crawl a long way to the Goyle family estate, Goyle fire called Pansy and Pansy notified me immediately.’

Draco looked over at Granger’s wand point and saw Pansy and Blaise outside the iron gate: ‘I told them to wait outside to preserve the crime scene, had to promise her at least sixteen times I’ll call them as backup if things go south, but they can side-along with you to St. Mangos.’

‘You have great friends, Draco.’ She said.

‘Can say the same thing for Potter too.’ Draco said, ‘You all came to his rescue at the first notice.’

Granger paused at that, and she apologised: ‘I’m sorry. My insistence on keeping Harry from breaking the spell is responsible for the mess of your relationship, and for the danger today. My consideration was Harry can be dangerous to himself sometimes, and I couldn’t identify the leak within the Auror department, but I didn’t know Harry had changed the spell behind my back —— it’s okay, his soul is stable, I had the spell removed just yesterday —— thank Godric I did. We actually have a trap operation set elsewhere, the name James Evans; obviously a fake, was specifically used for that purpose. The plan was to leak James Evans gradually as Harry. We registered a residence under that name in the hope they would hit there, and Rosier faked an attack there today; that’s why the Aurors refused to come here, and I had to pull together the old team.’

Draco blushed a bit and nodded, and Granger concluded: ‘The bottom line is, I had a hand in this situation, and I sincerely apologise for any damage I caused.’

‘Not your fault.’ Draco forced the word out, ‘You did what you thought was the best for your friend, and you saved us. I’m sorry for a lot of things too, back in school. You have been more than understanding about us, so let’s call it even, settle it over dinner or something ——I’m paying.’

Granger was relieved, then someone called her, so she apologised again and excused herself, motioning to Lovegood to monitor Draco in her place.

‘Hi, Draco.’ Lovegood sang as she cast her checking spell, ‘You had a close encounter with Harry’s old friend.’

Draco made a face of disgust: ‘I wouldn’t consider Rosier a friend.’

‘Oh, I wasn’t talking about him.’ Lovegood smiled, ‘I was talking about Death. She cared for Harry a bit ten years ago. They had a good relationship. After all, he is the only one that ever collected but never abused her three gifts. Rumor has it she secretly decided not to take his life until he deems he has lived a long and content life —— like in the story, when he willingly takes off his invisibility cloak and greets her as an old friend. Anyway, I’m glad you found your way back from her.’

By now, Draco wasn’t so skeptical about all things she said anymore; he hesitated, then gave in: ‘I had help.’

‘Oh, really?’ Lovegood was excited.

Draco glanced at Forgecount, but resigned and whispered: ‘It’s… it’s the golden arrowbees. I think I saw them.’

‘Oh them!’ Lovegood smiled, ‘They tend to grow fond of the hosts who present good honey, and sometimes they help the hosts in return.’

The crystal heart wasn’t supposed to burn, Draco suspects the burning had something to do with apitoxin, and he definitely saw the golden arrow. Sure the burning pain could be fantom pain from the Crucios, and the golden arrow could be his hallucination, all created by his brain basing on the insane fairytale Lovegood told him, but it’s an incredibly vivid hallucination, of the good kind, literary pointed their way back from death.

If by some off chance Lovegood was right, the little bees did a lot to help them today.

Lovegood was happy; she checked Draco’s vitals another time, and smiled: ‘Looks like you are ready for transportation.’

‘I’ll take him.’ Forgecount said as he cast a Wingardium Leviosa, floating Draco to the gate where Pansy and Blaise was looking over anxiously; after they walked a few steps away from Lovegood, Forgecount sighed, ‘You have a good heart.’

Draco probably didn’t, but it’s better to let Forgecount think he lied to make Lovegood happy than he was crazy, so Draco kept his mouth shut.

He was too tired, and fell asleep again as he felt Pansy squeezed his hand hard and kissed him on his forehead.

——

Draco couldn’t say how embarrassed he was when the doctor did a full-body scan, and it showed he had injuries at his arse and arsehole —— he really shouldn’t skip healing them. He was worried the doctor would think he was raped, but luckily, she leaned in and whispered in his ear: ‘They look like old injuries. From that time two days ago, in the dungeon?’

Draco looked at her surprised, she had blond curls and light green eyes, but the way she pushed her glasses, Draco immediately recognised her as Ruby.

‘Um… yes.’ He managed to answer.

‘It’s the only thing Harry managed to say before his surgery, that I must be your attending doctor personally. I guess that’s partly because he trusts my medical expertise in spell damage, but also he was worried your other injuries haven’t fully healed and asked me to take care of you to save you from any possible humiliation —— from the looks of it, he’s right. You haven’t been addressing them.’ She said, ‘I didn’t tell you when I first came in because I wanted to teach you a lesson.’

‘Message received, madame.’ Draco said, and as she arched her brow, he took a look at her name tag and changed her title, ‘…Dr. Ziegler.’

Ziegler used quite a few checking spells on him, as there’s no telling what the Crucios might have damaged; Draco was just lying there, quite bored, so he asked: ‘Potter knew you from the hospital first, didn’t he. He used to irritate the hell out of madame Pomfrey, because she had to fix him again and again, year after year. One of her most frequent, I believe.’

Ziegler couldn’t help but smile at that, but then her expression changed: ‘I knew him from ten years ago, back when he was still in Auror training. They tried to do a stakeout operation with the Auror trainees, but Harry got recognised when he was out to get coffee, and fans and reporters swarmed their stakeout house, and of course, the criminals they were staking out were alerted, and they attacked. Harry managed to disarm all of them at once, but he couldn’t stop the stampede accident. It wasn’t pretty. He tried to overcome the problems his face caused, perfected his glamour skill till no one could tell it was a glamoured face —— I helped him with that, he could even blush or pale with that face, but then, it became the first spell every half-decent criminals look for. That’s when he first realised he wasn’t good for the Auror line of work, he couldn’t use his own face, and he couldn’t risk going undercover with a fake face.’

‘And, of course, there’s Ginevra.’ She grimaced, ‘I figured out he was troubled by his sadistic tendencies, and kind of helped him into his business right now —— I have a few shares of Fantasy.’

‘That’s how you can afford Pansy’s shoes.’ Draco said.

She laughed: ‘She promised a new dress designed especially for me if I can fix you.’

‘Don’t tell her you know Potter, or she’ll regret it for three months.’

Ziegler laughed again, and finished her exam: ‘I’ve cast a few healing spells, and the nurses will bring you the potions after an hour, three hours, and five hours. Be a good boy and stay in bed, okay? I’ll now go observe and consult on Harry’s surgery, and I promise I’ll come and tell you once Harry comes out. You are only allowed to get up after twenty-four hours, and you can go see him once he’s conscious. Deal?’

Draco looked away: ‘I’m not going to see him.’

She narrowed her eyes, as if saying: we talked about this. I’ll definitely spank you if you were my sub. So Draco quickly conceded: ‘Deal.’

Her expression softened at that, then touched his shoulder lightly: ‘It’s okay. Dr. Chang is the best I know.’

Great. Draco thought. Another ex of Potter’s. He’s getting PTSD with them. Nothing good ever happens whenever they meet any one of them. Maybe that’s why they never worked out; all of them are literally star crossed with Potter. Not Draco, that he knew. He might have calculated a few times, or a few dozen times, when they first got into astrology. He kind of calculated all of Potter’s exes and potential partners. Draco is definitely the best constellation for Potter.

Merlin, the pain medication was getting to his brain.

‘Rest.’ Ziegler said gently, and Draco fell asleep again.

——

This time, he woke up to his mother’s tears.

‘Oh, my poor boy.’ She cried as she pushed his hair behind his ear, kissing his forehead as she saw him came to, ‘What you suffered…!’

Mother had always been too spoiling; she used to cry over his broken knee sooner than he did. It was her way of overcompensating for father’s distant and abusive parenting. Frankly, it’s a bit embarrassing to watch her cry and listen to her cooing over him, but it’s nice to see her face and hear her voice after brushing over Death’s shoulder.

Draco, of course, chose to lie: ‘You and father’s Christmas gift protected me, mother, I’m fine.’

He could tell she didn’t buy his lie, but she tried to look like she did, holding back her tears. She cried for a little bit longer, holding his hand and comforting him with her magic, then she hesitated and said: ‘Your father… he’s… he’s here. I think he would like to talk to you. Do you want to…?’

Really. That’s… that’s a very unLucius thing to do. Draco had thought father wouldn’t get over the disowning for ten years.

Lucius Malfoy, very much like himself, was a quite vulnerable person when it comes to true feelings. Right now, as Draco had a better understanding of himself, he felt he also understand his father better. Despite everything, he didn’t think he was at a point to hurt his father deliberately. Somehow, he felt that now he was the stronger and smarter of the two; he’s going have to bear more.

‘I’ll see him.’ Draco said, ‘Go rest, mother.’

She looked like she stayed up all night; she probably did.

Mother nodded and left. Draco tried to calm himself down, so he settled on lying down straight and somehow started meditating Potter’s name. After a few minutes, father walked in. He still looked like the impeccable Malfoy, blond hair, black robe and cane and all, his expression condescending, but Draco could tell he was nervous.

Draco sat up straight on the bed, nodded as a greeting; father didn’t react at first, then he simply floated a black velvet box to Draco: ‘I believe… I believe you are the rightful owner of these.’

Draco opened the box. It was the full set of ring and seal for the Head of the Malfoy family.

‘I don’t…’ Draco couldn’t look away, it’s not that he wants them, they represented the power and recognition that didn’t mean much to him anymore, it’s just he knew how much they meant to father, ‘It’s not my intention to challenge your status, I…’

‘I’m giving them to you because I trust you would lead the Malfoy family to the best road, a road of glory and prosperity.’ Father said in that dragging tone of his, ‘I recognise you as my successor, the new Head of the Malfoy family, and I… I give you my full loyalty and respect.’

He did it all business style, but Draco could see there’s something more to it, and he pushed it a bit: ‘You know, I’m not involved with Potter just for ambition.’

Father went stiff at that, but he said: ‘I know.’

Draco nodded; he didn’t have anything else to say to father, so he lied down: ‘If you’ll excuse me… I’m tired.’

Father nodded and turned to leave. But before he opened the door, he hesitated, his face half turned back; Draco could almost see his perfect Malfoy mask crumbling: ‘You… you take care. As long as you are happy, son.’

For a moment, Draco couldn’t tell if father was sincere, or if this was some means father used to get on the good side of the new Head of the family, because there was always some kind of calculation in the action of a Malfoy.

But he knew, his heart was touched in a way father had never touched it before.

——

If Pansy hadn’t flipped when Draco asked her to transfigure his uncomfortable hospital slippers into fluffy bunny slippers after she cut the apple into bunnies, with the way father had been acting and everything, Draco would doubt that he had actually died and gone to heaven.

‘You are unbelievable!’ Pansy threw a blueberry at Draco, ‘Is this how much Potter spoiled you, Draco? I feel bad for him, really.’

Yeah. Apple bunnies and sausage octopuses. Things like that. Potter had swift hands.

His surgery took a total of eight hours; when Ziegler came to Draco, she sighed and said Potter really cut himself deep on his upper arm; they had to repair his magical flow first, then blood vessels, then the tendons and muscles. His right hand was in better condition as it didn’t forcibly use as much magic as his left hand did, while they barely managed to save the magical flow to Potter’s left hand. They had to get Hermione’s help with one of the spells and had to wake Potter up mid-procedure to use his own powerful magic to complete it. Even that, Potter’s going to have a bad scar.

‘Your tourniquet definitely saved his life.’ Ziegler commented.

Well, the funny thing was, even back when they thought they were hated by each other, a life debt didn’t seem like much. If fate did keep a ledger on that, it would be a tangled mess between the two.

This time was a bit different, though. This time Potter didn’t risk his life for him because he’s just that great a person; this time, he did it out of personal reasons. Some may think this made him less noble, it’s always easier to give up your life for your loved one, but it didn’t feel like that to Draco. It also felt like the final confirmation they both needed, that neither was in this just to play a game; they were both all in.

By the evening of the third day, Potter was finally awake. Draco was still hospitalised, confined to his bed with his vitals under monitoring; he actually nearly coded as his heart rate and blood pressure were still unstable.

Part of him wanted to be there for Potter, but Ziegler made it clear she will snitch on Draco, skipping breakfast, skipping addressing his wounds and leaving the bed against her medical advice if that ever happens. It wasn’t much of a threat, really, but it was the excuse Draco needed to follow her medical advice. And, of course, part of him wanted Potter to come to him first.

Potter did.

In the middle of the night, under his invisibility cloak, against medical advice.


	27. Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They kind of talked. And got caught.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Mika.

Draco just somehow woke up, just in time to hear the creaky sound of his door opening —— Potter probably couldn’t even cast a silencing charm anymore —— and he just knew. But like a good predator, he waited patiently, and when Potter was close enough, he reached out like lightning and pulled off the invisibility cloak.

Potter’s emerald eyes were startled for a moment, then he looked down guiltily, his long eyelashes covering his eyes. Then he couldn’t resist but looked up and asked: ‘How can you always tell when I’m under the invisibility cloak?’

Potter’s hospital gown was a bit different from the one Draco was wearing: it was sleeveless, probably so it’s easier to monitor the wounds, as both of his upper arms had a half-transparent layer of magic wrapped around it, and while his right arm looked fine, his left arm had a rather wide ring of pink scars on it.

‘You definitely shouldn’t be up and walking around at this hour.’ Draco said.

‘I know.’ Potter said, his fingers clumsily fidgeting the invisibility cloak, ‘But I guess it’s just what I do —— How are you feeling? Forgecount said you took more than a dozen Crucios.’

‘I’m fine.’ Draco said, ‘You?’

Potter didn’t answer at first, his emerald eyes shimmering in the dark, then he said: ‘I remember you crying you almost lost your arm in third year. I thought… I thought you would need a lot of comfort and have a lot to complain about.’

‘Why the hell did you bring that up?!’ Draco blushed hard, ‘I had my share of stupid days. It passed.’

‘Will you do it for me then.’ Potter said, ‘Exaggerate your injuries, tell me everything little thing that hurt you, cry out everything that’s in your chest, or something.’

Draco paused.

He knew what Potter was doing. He was giving Draco an excuse. He really wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to spoil Draco.

‘May I?’ Potter gestured to the bed.

‘How are your arms?’ Draco asked.

‘Physically, it’s mostly fine. I just have to move around carefully, and no heavy lifting for at least three days, but the doctors suggested moving often to regain full function.’ Potter said, moving his arms to show Draco, the beautiful muscles on his arms flexing, ‘Magically, I have a long road of therapy ahead of me, so no wordless wandless spell anytime soon, and a lot of Wingardium Leviosas and Lumos as soon as I get my new wand. But they are positive that I should regain full function before September —— hopefully so, because I’ll be taking McGonagall’s job then. I need to at least best the first years.’

Draco couldn’t help but smiled a little at that, and also, couldn’t help but think, this must be everything Potter had ever wanted, to go back to Hogwarts, the place he felt most like home, and be a teacher, to pass on the legacy of Dumbledore and Lupin.

And he was ready to give that all up for Draco.

Draco moved so Potter could squeeze onto his small hospital bed, and tried: ‘Ziegler told me no magic any time soon too, I exhausted my magical core and needed to rest if I don’t want to be a squib the rest of my life.’

That’s not really exaggerating. Guess he’s slipping.

‘And any more Crucios in the rest of my life, I’ll just kill myself.’

Potter nodded, settling himself in Draco’s arms, his hand caressed Draco’s face, and just like that, Draco felt safe and relaxed.

Then he smiled: ‘So, we are basically two muggles right now.’

Draco couldn’t help but laughed: ‘Merlin, I don’t know how they manage to do anything.’

‘They have a lot of interesting things.’ Potter said, ‘While we developed all kinds of different spells and charms, they developed all kinds of different technologies to do the same things. Their technology is actually more advanced than our spells in many ways. It’s just a shame many of them are exclusive with magic.’

Like that phone thing, Draco definitely found them interesting, but they malfunction when touched by a wizard. The Weasleys had been developing something similar, using magic, not electricity, but they still needed some time.

‘I kind of scheduled a dinner with Granger; I hope you don’t mind.’ Draco said as he looked into those emerald eyes, ‘It might be a bit stupid to explain, but, I’m not a blood supremacist. Rather, I find any discrimination based on what people are born with ridiculous. I don’t think father is a blood supremacist either; he just chose to use it to maximise benefits for himself. And I chose not to walk that path.’

Potter listened, then smiled: ‘Well, I’ve met the couple of your trio; it’s only fair you meet mine.’

Draco remembered their conversation about third-wheeling, and the weird feeling of frustration and ridiculous made him smile. He couldn’t help and asked: ‘You really never lied to me other than, you know, who you are?’

Potter paused, then he sat up carefully, so he wasn’t touching Draco: ‘About that, now that I can talk, I’ll try telling you everything from the start, and you can decide what happens with us next.’

Draco looked at Potter. He seemed very sincere. Draco wasn’t sure what Potter was going to say next would change anything, but he said: ‘Okay.’

Potter took a deep breath and started: ‘My dungeon isn’t just a dungeon. When I received your application, I had to go and tell Hermione,’ Draco panicked a little, but Potter held his hand, ‘ —— just hear me out. I know it’s not something you would ever share with anyone, so I asked her to set a spell in place that would guarantee her forgetting everything we talked about for the duration of the spell. It’s a variation of _Obliviate_ that can be applied for a maximum of fifteen minutes every month without any damage. I told her about your application ——just that you wanted to come to the dungeon, nothing in the contract. She had to be the voice of reason for me, and warned me it might be some kind of ruse… I don’t think I believed her, but I guess I used her words as an excuse, convinced myself it was a good reason to take you as a client myself —— that if you really were up to something vile, then I should find out myself.’

He looked down at Draco’s hand he was holding, and smiled a sad smile: ‘But I kind of… I kind of forgot everything the moment I saw you. You… you have this magic —— not literally magic, just this weird ability of yours, that pulls me to you, antagonise or otherwise, you get whatever you want from me.’

Draco didn’t move or speak, so nothing he’s thinking or feeling would be revealed. Frankly, he didn’t know what he was thinking or feeling right now.

‘Anyway,’ Potter pulled himself out of his emotion, ‘I decided you weren’t a threat after our first encounter, or rather, after you called me sir. I knew morally, I should probably stop taking your appointments, I wanted to defer you to another Dom, but I couldn’t do it. You were just… you were just too perfect. And your requirement, you wanted to be punished for the things you did to me, by someone who pretended to be me, it was like… the requirement was screaming you wanted to be punished by me, and you wasn’t supposed to know who the Dom was anyway, so technically… why shouldn’t it be me.’

The way he talked, he was still his awkward and sweet normal self, but the Dom personality was breaking through, barely held in place by his impressive self-control, and in the silver moonlight, he looked like a werewolf stopped himself mid-transformation, both terrifying and incredibly beautiful.

‘I have to apologise, as I later realised that’s my first step onto the slippery slope; things went south really fast after that.’ Potter ran his hand over his face, frustrated and embarrassed, ‘I promised myself it was just going to be a healing process for you; I was not going to violate you anyway another Dom wouldn’t. I started to like you more and more. So the second month, I asked Hermione if I could tell you who I was. But that’s when they started setting the trap operation, so she denied. So I tried the alternative, I tried to meet you as myself, but it didn’t work out very well. And after you almost got sent to prison, I thought it’s best you don’t know anything confidential anymore, because of the mole, he used you as patsy once, and if that ever happens again, I’m not sure I could be there on time.’

‘I even wanted to stay away; I tried cancelling our appointments, but then you… Merlin, you came, and you told me you were in love with me.’

At that, Draco could feel himself boiling. It’s so much more embarrassing to face what he had done when he was no longer angry. He wanted to smother Potter with his pillow or something, but that would just embarrass himself further.

‘And I just kind of… lost it after that.’ Potter said, huffing a sarcastic laugh, ‘That night of New Year’s Eve, I forgot I wasn’t using my own name and face when you looked at me, smiling, in the snow. So I kissed you. As ridiculous as this may sound, sometimes I had to remind myself I am the real Harry Potter, because it was so easy to forget everything when I was with you, I forget my name, my face, my past, all that’s left were my instincts, and they just ache for you…’

‘Sorry.’ Potter forced out a smile, ‘I shouldn’t… There’s no excuse for what I’ve done. Anything you want to ask?’

Quite a few. Did you really grow up in that cupboard? Were you really interested in me back in school? Have you ever doubted that I was the one trying to kill you? Are you really in love with me?

But really, he knew the answer to all that. The thing he really wanted to know was: ‘Do you… forgive me? For what happened. Back at school. And… and everything else.’

It was not the question Potter was anticipating, he was surprised, and after a second, he said: ‘Everything… everything after fifth year wasn’t your fault. I never really met my parents, and I would have done everything to keep them alive; I can only imagine what your mother must have meant to you with years of goodnight kisses and lullabies. Everything before fifth year, well, we settled most of it, didn’t we?’

He tried to make it lighter and flirty at the last sentence, but failed and said: ‘Really. There’s nothing more to forgive. Everything happened back then… I guess I’m just screwed up like this because now, when I think back about it, I just like you more. Our antagonistic history, you being bratty and juvenile… I just love you more.’

‘You are definitely messed up.’ Draco said.

‘I really don’t know that much about love and everything; I hope you would give me a chance to…’ Potter probably was nervous, because he fell back to things he had said before.

Draco pulled him in and kissed him.

‘No one knows how to fucking love someone else.’ Draco said, ‘We kind of all make things up as we go. We do our best, and we try to understand when the other screws up.’

Then he pulled Potter down again; this time kissed him harder.

Potter really shouldn’t be holding any weight, not even that of his own body, so they flipped on the small bed, Draco straddling Potter’s thighs.

The way Potter looked up at Draco, his eyelashes like a startled butterfly, only letting the emerald colour shone through occasionally, and the way he was blushing, was like he was a fucking virgin, nervous as the man he loved just pinned him to the bed. He almost made Draco feel guilty.

He looked down at Potter for a moment. Somehow, he felt like it’s the first time he was really with Potter since Potter’s identity blew, the spell preventing Potter from fully being himself gone, and Draco was finally hit by the fact who was kissing him, touching him, it hit him so hard that his usual defense shattered.

‘I guess I would never be here, if I know you were you from the beginning.’

Potter went calm: ‘What do you mean.’

‘I would never let… let _you_ happen to me.’ Draco draped his own eyelashes over his eyes, ‘Because I don’t think I can handle it if I ever lose it.’

Then he smiled as the first tear fell: ‘Fuck it. I probably would let you ruin me for anyone else. If that means I can have you for a moment. I probably would seduce you if I ever knew you were interested, convince you it’s just a fling, try to stretch it as long as I could… I would never let you know how I felt, because it felt humiliating just knowing you know I have feelings for you. I probably would never admit it to myself… I couldn’t deny it now. I already told you I love you; I couldn’t lie to myself.’

Potter held him at that.

He would say a million apologies, but there were just no words at that moment.

‘I’m glad that we are here,’ It took him a while to say as he kissed Draco, ‘But somehow… I feel like I’ll always find my way to you, regardless. And please don’t feel bad just because I know you love me. It’s probably the best thing that’s ever given to me in my life, and you definitely shouldn’t feel bad when I love you as much, if not more.’

He waited, and as Draco didn’t say anything, he looked up timidly and asked: ‘Does this mean I get to take care of you the rest of my life?’

Draco looked down at him: ‘This sounds an awful lot like a proposal.’

‘Maybe I am.’ Potter said, ‘I do have that ring on me —— brought it with me just in case, I was supposed to deal with your sub mental meltdown. Though I had already given it to you once.’

‘I do believe a proper propose require you to get down on your knee.’

The way Draco said it, playful and seductive, Potter arched a brow as he knew what Draco was getting at. He gets down on one knee anyway, looking a bit ridiculous in the hospital gown, but also good in a way it shouldn’t have been possible. He put Draco’s fluffy bunny slippers on, pulled Draco to stand, and traced the tip of his nose along Draco’s cock.

He was good at it as always, but nice and slow tonight, kissing it and caressing it through the clothes, then pulled the fabrics down and licked at it, soaking it to its full erection before taking it into his mouth. The man had an incredibly flexible tongue, and it swirled around Draco’s cock, traced the throbbing veins and thrusted at the leaking hole on top; one flick of his tongue and Draco almost lost it.

‘Fuck! Potter … _more_.’ Draco couldn’t help but moan, his hand pulled at the messy black hair, desperate to get deeper down that velvet throat.

But Potter stopped at that, just holding Draco’s cock loosely in his mouth driving Draco mad, and looked up at Draco with his emerald eyes. When Draco didn’t respond, he gave a small lick like a cute puppy, and Draco knows exactly what treat he was asking for: ‘Fine. I guess I should treat you better when you have my cock in your mouth —— Harry, alright?’

Harry picked up speed at that, sucking Draco’s cock and squeezing it with his throat; it wasn’t long before Draco came, shooting down Harry’s throat, and some on Harry’s face, the strands landed on his eyelashes shone iridescent in the moonlight, in contrast to those beautiful emerald eyes, Draco felt his heart skipped a beat.

Literally, skipped a beat, because the monitoring spell went off at that, they could hear footsteps down the hallway and Ziegler shouting: ‘ _Harry James Potter_!’

They looked at each other, then Draco quickly tugged himself away, and Potter pulled the invisibility cloak over himself and sprint for the door. Before he left, however, he pulled the cloak away and whispered: ‘Draco!’

And he threw something at Draco, that thing drew a beautiful silver curve in the night, and Draco caught it with his seeker reflex.

It was the ring.

Draco smiled, but he quickly schooled his expression and tried to look as guilty as possible when Ziegler showed up at the door with both hands on her waist.


End file.
